"*c 

V 


Joachim's  Daughter 


Of  filLl/,  j,JER4By,   LQS  ANGELES 


JOACHIM'S 
DAUGHTER 


A  Story  of  the  time  of 
Herod  the  Great 


KING  OF  THE  JEWS 

By 
WILLIAM  C.  HICKS 


PETERS  &  ALGER,  PUBLISHERS 

Benton  Harbor,  Mich. 

MDCCCCIII. 


Copyrighted,  1908,  by  WM.  C.  HICKS 
All  rights  reserved. 


Published  July,  1903 


Principal  Characters 

JOACHIM,  Jewish  Patriarch 

JOSEPH,  the  Friend  of  Joachim 

PANTHERA,  a  Roman  Soldier 

HABABLI  HILLEL;  Jewish  Teacher 

RABBI  JUDAS,  a  Priest 

SIMON  GATZOR,  Merchant  of  Hebron 

HEROD  THE  GREAT,  "  King  of  the  Jews  " 

SOLON  HAI,  the  Wizard  of  Jerusalem 

MELSACH,  COSTA,  Minions  of  Solon  Hai 

MARY,  Daughter  of  Joachim 

ALTA  GATZOR,  Daughter  of  Simon  Gatzor 


2130192 


CONTENTS. 


I.  The  Magi       .         .         .         . 

II.  The  Spy         .... 

III.  The  Wizard  of  Jerusalem 

IV.  A  Perfect  Man 

V.  The  Abduction       . 

VI.  A  Race  for  Life      . 

VII.  The  Horseback  Duel     . 

VIII.  Back  to  the  Camp 

IX.  A  Fixed  Gulf 

X.  An  Apt  Rogue 

XI.  A  Friend  of  the  King    .         .   • 

XII.  The  Temptation    . 

XIII.  The  Prisoner 

XIV.  Hababli  Hillel 

XV.  The  Mighty  Precepts 

XVI.  Jerusalem       .... 

XVII.  A  Seat  of  Learning 

XVIII.  A  Story  of  Revenge 

XIX.  Preparation  for  the  Inquisition 

XX.  Judgment  Seat — Degradation 

XXI.  The  Betrothal— The  Warning 

XXII.  Living  or  Dead,  I  will  Return 

XXIII.  A  Conspiracy 

vii 


9 

18 

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36 

45 

54 

63 

72 

80 

87 

97 

107 

118 

129 

139 

148 

157 

167 

188 

196 

206 

214 

221 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. 

XXIV.  The  Seance — Necromancy 

XXV.  The  King's  Visitor    . 

XXVI.  The  Refinement  of  Torture 

XXVII.  Chamber  of  Death       . 

XX  VIII.  A  Strange  Invitation 

XXIX.  The  Sorceress    .         .    .     . 

XXX.  Antonia  and  Oblivion 

XXXI.  Egypt,  India— A  Vision      . 


PAGE. 

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241 
248 
258 
270 
277 
286 
295 


Joachim's  Daughter 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  MAGI. 

"In  thy  seed  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be 
blessed.  Amen,  my  child !  This  was  the  promise  made  of 
God  unto  our  fathers — to  which,  serving  him  at  all 
times,  his  people  hope  to  come." 

"Father  dear,  thine  eyes  are  dim  with  looking;  thine 
ears  are  dull  from  listening;  thou  hast  waited  long  for 
the  anointed." 

"Truly  hast  thou  spoken,  daughter  of  Anna,  yet  we 
may  not  be  weary.  His  promise  is  sure  and  steadfast — 
Child  of  my  heart !  Moreover,  to  give  his  people  strong 
consolation,  he  made  oath  by  himself,  and  he  could 
swear  by  no  greater — 'That  unto  him  every  knee  shall 
bow  and  every  tongue  confess !' ' 

An  expression  of  exalted  grandeur  rested  upon  the 
countenance  of  the  aged  patriarch,  who  uttered  these 
words. 

The  child-woman,  reclining  at  his  feet,  raised  her- 
self from  this  posture  and  looked  lovingly,  tenderly  and 
anxiously  into  the  face  of  her  venerable  companion. 

With  fixed  features  and  wistful  eyes  the  man  gazed 
toward  the  eastern  horizon,  as  though  he  would  realize. 


io  Joachim's  Daughter. 

out  of  the  cloudless  sky,  the  presence  of  the  one  antici- 
pated; while  the  maid,  just  budding  into  womanhood, 
supported  herself  against  his  knee. 

Beneath  the  rich,  light  robes  that  adorned  her  body 
could  be  traced  the  voluptuous,  graceful  lines  of  a 
well-moulded  figure. 

Daintiest  feet  imaginable,  laced  in  crimson  leather 
sandals,  peeped  from  under  the  loose,  purple,  outer  gar- 
ment. Her  exquisitely  shaped  dimpled  hand  toyed  with 
a  golden  tassel  suspended  from  an  elaborately  wrought 
girdle  of  the  same  material,  which  confined  the  folds  of 
her  elegant  attire  about  the  lithesome  waist. 

A  silver  circlet,  of  intricate  design,  held  the  auburn 
tresses  back  from  an  ideal  forehead,  permitting  the 
glossy  locks  to  fall  in  waves  over  the  rounded  shoulders. 
Save  this  slender,  gleaming  wire,  no  ornament  adorned 
her  hair. 

The  artful  hand  of  the  Grecian  sculptor,  in  his  palm- 
iest days,  could  not  have  carved  a  more  beautifully  sym- 
metrical neck  than  the  one  exposed  to  view  beneath  an 
upturned  face  of  striking  loveliness.  Although  an  oval, 
there  were  strong  lines  that  indicated  a  lofty  charac- 
ter and  noble  aspirations ;  a  loving,  melting  expression 
about  the  eyes,  now  with  dilated  pupils  eclipsing  the 
deep  blue  of  the  iris,  voiced  the  intense  sympathy  that 
was  a  part  of  this  maiden's  nature.  The  aquiline  nose, 
the  dark,  luminous  eyes,  delicately  chisled  mouth  and 
the  peculiar  contour  of  the  cheek  and  chin,  proclaimed 
the  maid  a  daughter  of  Israel,  of  the  tribe  of  Judah. 

The  upturned  eyes,  distended  nostrils  and  parted, 
rosy  lips  combined  to  give  to  the  features  of  the  beauti- 
ful creature  an  aspect  of  much  interest  and  concern ; 
and  to  heighten  and  deepen  the  glow  coming  from  the 
countenance  of  this  divinely  lovely  Israelitish  maiden. 


The  Magi.  n 

On  the  velvety  green  sward,  fresh,  and  as  yet,  untar- 
nished by  the  scorching  heat  of  mid-summer,  was 
spread  an  eastern  rug  of  ample  dimensions  and  curious 
workmanship,  which  afforded  the  two  a  resting  place. 

Before  their  vision  stretched  the  valley  of  Escol,  with 
its  grape  vines,  its  olive  trees  and  other  herbage  green 
with  life  and  freshness.  At  one  side  was  the  ancient 
Kirjath  Arba — Hebron — at  one  time  the  home  of  king 
David. 

Nigh  where  they  were  seated  stood,  also,  the  giant 
oak  of  the  Seer,  with  its  mighty  branches,  under  which, 
the  father  of  this  peculiar  and  strange  people,  entertain- 
ed angels.  A  spot  overflowing  with  sacred  memories 
in  the  land  of  ancient  Israel. 

Far  distant  to  the  west  could  be  seen  the  mountains 
of  Judea  ;and,  close  at  hand,  a  clump  of  Terebinth  trees, 
their  evergreen  foliage  tinged  with  purple  and  red. 
Three  oblong  tents  from  which  emerged  persons,  who 
appeared  to  be  acting  in  the  capacity  of  attendants, 
afforded  life  to  the  scene  and  completed  the  picture. 

A  bright,  beautiful  spring  morning  greeted  these  per- 
sons as  the  sun  rose  in  welcome  accord  with  the  cloud- 
less sky;  sending  its  golden  gleams  trickling  through 
the  morning  air;  lending  an  entrancing  touch  to  the 
magnificent  prospect. 

The  land  of  promise  which  Moses  beheld  with  long- 
ing eyes,  as  he  gazed  from  Pisga's  mountain !  The 
wonderful  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey! 

The  spot  could  be  seen  where  was  the  cave  of  Mach- 
pelah — in  the  field  owned  by  Ephron  the  Hittite,  the 
son  of  Zohar,  to  whom  was  weighed  and  paid  four  hun- 
dred shekels  of  silver  current  money  with  the  merchant 
— in  order  that  afterwards  those  who  should  own  and 
possess  the  land  might  have  a  place  to  bury  their  dead. 


12  Joachim's  Daughter. 

A  portion  of  earth,  by  its  tender  associations  made 
sacred  in  the  history  of  Israel,  where  Abraham,  Isaac 
and  Jacob ;  Sarah,  Rebecca  and  Leah  were  laid  to  rest. 

It  was  day  dawn,  the  sun  not  more  than  an  hour  high 
— a  clear  spring  morning  peculiar  to  the  land  of  Judea. 

Shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  the  man  scaned 
the  distance  towards  the  east  and  south.  A  massive 
gold  signet  ring  sparkled  on  one  of  his  fingers.  Every- 
thing about  these  personages  bore  testimony  of  wealth, 
refinement  and  culture. 

There  was  a  certain  noblesse  about  the  bearing  and 
demeanor  of  the  man,  whi-h  could  not  fail  to  attract 
more  than  ordinary  passing  interest  and  attention.  His 
venerable  appearance  was  heightened  by  a  luxurious 
growth  of  hair,  which  was  scrupulously  well  kept,  and 
a  long  white  beard,  especially  noticeable,  falling  as  it 
did,  in  graceful  lines  to  the  waist. 

Beneath  the  loose,  eastern  gown  could  be  observed  a 
close  fitting  tunic,  of  fine  twined  linen,  trimmed  with 
purple  and  gold  in  curiously  wrought  figures.  A  tur- 
ban covered  his  head,  from  which  hung  a  frill  of  light 
material,  shielding  the  neck.  The  feet  were  shod  with 
strong,  well  fitting  leather  sandals,  held  to  their  places 
by  thongs  of  the  same  material. 

At  the  door  of  one  of  the  tents  stood 
another  man,  who  was  clothed  in  similar  cos- 
tume, and  who  had  the  appearance  of  being 
somewhat  younger.  This  person  seemed  to  be  silently 
contemplating  the  watching  ones,  as  if  to  anticipate 
their  wants.  He  was  evidently  in  authority  over  the 
camp  and  its  equipment,  as  from  time  to  time  he  direct- 
ed, in  a  quiet  manner,  the  movements  and  doings  of 
the  servants  who  made  up  the  rest  of  the  company. 

The  tents  were  pitched  in  a  field  in  close  proximity 


The  Magi.  13 

to  the  road,  that  wound  along  among  the  hills  toward 
the  city  of  Jerusalem.  To  the  east  a  short  distance, 
three  miles  or  less,  lay  the  city  of  Hebron  with  its  new 
wall,  which  Herod  had  recently  finished  by  the  compul- 
sory labor  of  his  countrymen. 

"Joseph,  come  hither!" 

The  person  standing  at  the  door  of  the  tent  came  for- 
ward promptly  in  obedience  to  the  request  made  by  the 
older  man. 

"Age  hath  not  dimmed  thy  sight.  Look  toward  the 
south.  Behold,  the  sun  hath  already  arisen.  My  soul 
yearns  for  their  presence." 

"Thy  servant,  Joachim,  beloved  of  the  Lord !" 

Joseph  made  a  low  obeisance  before  the  patriarch, 
then  turned  and  looked  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"What  seest  thou?"  sharply  enquired  Joachim. 

"The  dust  of  travelers,  not  more  than  a  Sabbath 
day's  journey,"  quietly  answered  Joseph. 

"Salute  thy  father  with  a  kiss,  thou  precious  gift 
from  the  Lord,"  murmured  Joachim,  addressing  the 
maiden,  as  he  bent  fondly  over  to  receive  the  caress. 
"Thou  may'st  leave  me  daughter,"  he  continued. 
"Abide  thou  in  thy  tent  until  thy  father  summon  thee." 

The  maid  arose  obediently  and  went  toward  the  place 
indicated  by  her  father. 

Joseph  looked  after  her,  as  did,  also,  his 
companion,  until  she  disappeared  within  the  opening  of 
the  white-walled  tent  and  was  hidden  from  their  view. 

"Thy  daughter,  Mary,  is  already  a  woman,"  observ- 
ed Joseph,  in  a  voice,  as  if  the  fact  had  entered  his  mind 
for  the  first  time. 

"Thou  hast  spoken  my  very  thought.  The  tender 
mercy  of  the  Lord  be  about  her  at  all  times." 

"Amen !     Amen !"   fervently   ejaculated   Joseph   in 


14  Joachim's  Daughter. 

response  to  the  invocation,  as  they  resumed,  once  more, 
their  watching  and  waiting. 

Two  other  men,  who  likewise  were  of  mature  age 
and  priestly  bearing,  were  now  plainly  visable,  a  short 
distance  away,  approaching  on  horseback.  They  were 
clothed  in  very  light  grayish  woolen  costumes.  These 
robes  commenced  by  forming  a  turban  for  the  head, 
from  thence  falling  in  folds  over  the  shoulders.  A 
slit  through  the  gown  allowed  freedom  for  the 
arms,  which  were  sleeved  with  linen.  The  costumes 
were  drawn  about  the  waist  by  means  of  a  belt  or  cord 
from  underneath.  Their  feet  were  sandaled.  Their 
limbs  were  covered  with  close  fitting  gray  apparently 
of  the  same  material  as  their  outer  garments.  The 
animals,  on  which  they  were  seated,  were  saddled  with 
light  leather  girdles  with  pummels,  from  which  hung 
strong  leather  stirrups  and  to  which  the  bridle  reins 
were  loosely  tied. 

The  horses  were  strong,  lithe  limbed,  well  broken,  of 
the  Arabian  breed,  kind  in  disposition  and  tractable; 
in  color  almost  matching  the  robes  of  their  masters, 
who  were  armed  with  short  whips,  with  which  they 
guided  the  movements  of  these  faithful  animals. 

Emerging  from  a  sharp  bend  of  the  road,  in  the 
rear  of  them,  could  be  seen  two  camels,  each  loaded 
with  large  packs,  followed  by  two  servants,  dressed  in 
white  tunics  and  turbans,  who  were  running  along, 
bare  footed  and  bare  limbed,  after  these  ancient  burden 
bearers  of  the  east. 

The  horsemen  had  discovered  the  tents  and  were 
urging  their  animals  into  a  sharp  trot,  which  quickly 
brought  them  abreast  of  where  the  two  men  awaited 
their  arrival.  Dismounting  they  turned  the  animals 
out  to  feed  on  the  luxuriant  grass  by  the  wayside,  while 


The  Magi.  15 

they  advanced  toward  the  place  occupied  by  Joachim. 

Raising  their  hands  above  their  heads,  they  proceed- 
ed to  prostrate  themselves  to  the  ground  before  the 
Jewish  patriarch. 

"My  brethren !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Beloved  of  the  Lord !"  they  answered  in  one  voice, 
raising  their  faces  from  the  earth. 

Joachim,  with  outstretch  hands,  hastened  toward  the 
prostrate  men. 

"Arise,  my  kinsmen.  The  Lord  be  with  thee.  Let 
his  mercy  be  over  all  within  thy  gates !" 

The  men  arose  at  once,  each  in  turn  embracing 
Joachim,  saluting  him  with  a  kiss. 

Joachim  enquired  as  to  whether  they  had  partaken 
of  the  morning  meal,  and  when  assured  that  they  had. 
he  pointed  to  the  large  mat  and  invited  the  new- 
comers to  be  seated.  To  this  invitation  they  promptly 
acquiesced  and  seated  themselves  so  that  each  faced 
inward. 

The  servants,  in  the  meantime,  had  arrived  and,  with- 
out waiting  for  orders,  proceeded  to  select  a 
place  to  pitch  an  equal  number  of  tents  at  a  convenient 
distance  from  the  others.  In  a  very  short  time  the 
vicinity  took  on  the  appearance  of  a  tented  village. 

Whatever  was  the  nature  of  the  business  bringing 
these  venerable  men  together,  there  was  nothing  in 
the  way,  apparently,  to  hinder  or  delay  its  transaction ; 
and  it  looked  very  much  as  though  there  had  been  a 
preconcerted  arrangement  which  had  led  to  this 
assembling. 

There  could  not  have  been  a  fairer  or  clearer 
day  had  it  been  ordered  or  made  on  purpose.  The 
pearly  blue  covering  of  heaven;  the  green  sward 
of  mother  earth,  with  its  fresh  scent  arising  from 


1 6  Joachim's  Daughter. 

the  morning  dew ;  the  murmuring  ripple  of  brooklets,  as 
they  trickled  down  their  way  toward  the  Dead  Sea; 
the  musical  warble  of  myriads  of  sweet  tongued  song- 
sters, letting  their  melodies  swell  with  cheerful  pipe  as 
the  morning  ushered  in  the  day — all  nature,  seemed  to 
have  conspired  to  do  her  best  and  utmost  to  assist  in 
making  harmony  for  this  meeting. 

A  number  of  papyrus  rolls  were  produced  and  spread 
on  the  mat  in  the  vacant  center  space.  On  these  was 
written  in  Greek,  Hebrew  and  other  languages  of  the 
time,  the  subject  matter  which  was  to  engage  the  atten- 
tion of  these  scholars. 

Animation  and  interest  were  displayed  on  the  coun- 
tenances of  these  men  as  they  consulted,  compared  and 
examined,  in  a  most  circumspect  manner,  the  records 
before  them.  From  time  to  time  minutes  and  copious 
notes,  of  the  results  of  their  investigations,  wrere  made 
and  entered  on  the  margins  of  the  rolls  or  on  tablets 
prepared  for  the  purpose. 

Capably  and  quietly,  as  though  they  were  mere  mov- 
ing automatons,  the  Arab  servants,  having  secured  the 
animals  and  provided  for  their  necessities  and  com- 
forts, proceeded  to  erect  a  canopy  over  the  place  where 
the  persons,  about  whom  the  interest  is  centering,  were 
seated. 

Four  upright  poles  were  placed  in  the  ground  at 
short  distances  from  the  corners  of  the  rug,  the  two  on 
the  west  side  reaching  somewhat  higher  than  those  on 
the  east.  Horizontal  poles,  running  north  and  south, 
were  fastened  to  these  uprights  near  their  tops  and 
sheets  of  cotton  were  stretched  over  them.  This  simple 
arrangement  served  admirably  in  protecting  the  visi- 
tors and  their  host  from  the  increasing  heat.  As  soon 
as  this  kindly  service  was  completed  the  servants  with- 


The  Magi.  17 

drew,  betaking  themselves  to  the  shelter  of  their  own 
tents. 

The  men  under  the  canopy  removed  their  turbans, 
exposing  sunburned  skins  of  a  nut-brown  color,  there 
was  no  hint  of  the  ebony  or  shining  black  of  the  negro, 
but  that  swarthy,  berry-stained  tinge  of  the  Malay  or 
Hindoo.  That  they  were  ripe  in  years  was  apparent 
to  even  the  most  casual  observer.  Each  head  was  sil- 
very white  and  their  flowing  beards  were  tinged  with 
gray.  Venerable  features,  imposing  deportment  and 
grave,  earnest  conversation  all  bore  testimony  to  the 
evident  fact  that  age  and  experience  had  been  attained. 

Their  dark,  thoughtful  eyes  wrere  constantly  bent  on 
the  rolls  before  them,  intently  scanning  the  characters 
thereon.  As  they  conversed  together,  the  stern  and 
harder  lines,  which  marked  their  fine  faces,  gradually 
softened  and  blended  into  expressions  of  benevolence, 
brotherly  kindness  and  beneficience,  which  rarely  can 
be  counterfeited  by  the  hypocrite  or  knave,  and  are  only 
to  be  attained  with  certainty  where  the  heart  is  right 
and  the  soul  is  true. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  SPY. 

During  the  time,  in  which  these  scenes  are  laid,  a  wide 
spread  belief  prevailed,  not  only  among  the  Hebrews, 
but  in  all  the  countries  of  western  Asia,  setting  forth 
that  a  mighty  prince  would  soon  come  who  would 
deliver  the  people  from  the  exactions  of  that  mistress 
of  the  world — the  Roman  Republic.  The  rich  and  the 
poor;  the  strong  and  the  weak;  the  freeman  and  the 
bondman ;  the  cultured  and  the  unlearned  shared  in  this 
accredited  opinion  to  such  an  extent  that  a  general 
state  of  unrest  and  feverish  excitement  had  been 
created. 

Through  this  ever  growing  unquietness  actual  out- 
breaks had  occurred  in  the  western  Asiatic  provinces; 
and,  although  such  disturbances  were  speedily  crushed 
and  the  leaders  slain,  their  theories  and  prophecies  were 
listened  to  and  hailed  with  avidity  as,  from  time  to 
time,  they  were  proclaimed  by  others. 

Augustus  and  the  Roman  Senate  governed  the  Ro- 
man dependencies  and  the  temple  of  Janus  had  been 
closed  for  some  time.  The  great  empire  had  no  wars 
upon  its  hands — the  world,  in  theory,  was  at  peace. 
So  long  as  there  was  no  open  rebellion  or  sedition,  the 
Emperor  paid  but  little  attention  to  these  rumors  of  a 
deliverer;  in  fact,  the  belief  was  rather  encouraged 
than  otherwise  as  it  afforded  the  people  occupation. 

18 


The  Spy.  19 

While  interested  in  the  investigation  and  interpretation 
of  the  prophecies  contained  in  their  sacred  writings, 
they  were  not  apt  to  be  engaged  in  other  and  more  dan- 
gerous pursuits.  Moreover,  astrologers  and  necro- 
mancers were  seldom  warriors — from  such  there  was 
little  to  fear.  The  people  must  have  something  to 
afford  them  instruction  and  amusement. 

Rome  had,  long  ago,  discovered  that  nothing  allowed 
the  chains  to  bind  so  lightly  as  encouragement  of  an 
indulgence  in  religious  superstition.  This  prediction, 
of  the  advent  of  a  mighty  prince,  was  included  under 
the  head  of  superstitions  and  so  long  as  the  wise  men 
and  soothsayers,  of  the  time,  went  no  further  than  to 
make  unfulfilled  prophecies  they  were  tolerated  and 
unmolested. 

The  ambition  of  Augustus  was  satisfied  to  govern 
well  the  territory  already  acquired.  Although  intro- 
ducing this  spirit  of  toleration,  as  well  as  judicious, 
moderation  and  wisdom,  into  the  councils  of  these  peo- 
ple and  nations  of  diverse  aspirations,  he  afforded  his 
subjects,  to  say  the  least,  a  doubtful  security  in  the  pur- 
suit of  their  own  pleasures,  pastimes  and  convictions. 

From  the  foundation  of  the  world,  an  uninterrupted 
series  of  rumors,  more  or  less  vague  and  curious,  had 
prepared  these  Asiatic  tribes,  many  of  whom  were 
descendants  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  for  the  com- 
ing of  a  king  and  conqueror.  It  was  a  son  of  univer- 
sal proposition  to  Jew  and  Greek,  to  the  bond  and  the 
free,  and,  in  fact,  had  invaded  all  parts  of  the  great 
Empire,  both  east  and  west.  In  Judea  the  growth  of 
this  sentiment  had  attained  such  proportions  as  to 
exclude  nearly  all  other  considerations  in  the  religious 
system  of  this  devoted  and  exclusive  people  The 
ancient  oracles,  predicting  the  advent  of  the  Messiah, 


2O  Joachim's  Daughter. 

were  consulted  and  sought  after  with  the  intensity  of 
desperation  born  of  this  hope  and  expectation. 

It  was  he  who  would  deliver  them  from  Roman 
bondage ;  through  him  they  would  become  the  head  of 
all  nations;  his  might  and  power  would  overcome  all 
opposition.  On  the  throne  of  his  father,  David,  he 
would  order  and  establish  his  own  kingdom,  and  all 
kingdoms  should  serve  and  obey  him.  He  it  would  be 
who  should  make  of  his  enemies  his  footstool,  he  would 
reign  under  the  whole  heavens,  and  of  his  government 
there  should  be  no  end.  He  would  be  the  stone,  cut 
out  without  hands,  that  would  smite  the  image  of 
Nebuchadnezzar  on  its  iron-clay  feet,  and  break  them 
to  pieces — so  that  all  the  iron,  the  brass,  the  silver  or 
the  gold  in  any  way  left  of  the  Babylonian,  Medo-Per- 
sian,  Greek  or  Roman  empires  would  be  crushed  and 
destroyed. 

A  time  of  trouble  was  portrayed,  before  this  could 
be  consummated,  after  which  would  be  ushered  in  the 
reign  of  peace.  From  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  the  great 
king,  the  law  would  issue  and  govern  all  the  nations, 
tongues  and  peoples  of  the  earth. 

The  Mazdean  prophecies  of  Persia  had  also  pene- 
trated Palestine,  and  the  name  of  Zoroaster  had  be- 
come, in  many  places,  as  familiar  as  that  of  Moses. 
During  the  captivity  the  people  had  become  more  or 
less  familiar  with  the  writings  of  this  sage  and  seer. 

The  last  things,  and  the  end  of  the  world,  were 
relegated  to  the  close  of  a  long  period  of  time,  when  a 
new  Saoshyant  is  to  be  born,  and  a  new,  incorruptable 
world  to  begin.  Ormuzd  should  summon  together,  for 
a  final,  decisive  struggle,  all  the  powers,  in  order  to 
break  forever  the  strength  of  evil.  By  his  mighty  aid 
the  faithful  should  become  victorious  over  all  their 


The  Spy.  21 

enemies.  This  would  be  the  last  appeal  of  Ormuzd  to 
mankind.  Then  should  the  sun  shine  forth  in  the  reful- 
gence of  its  glory,  and  no  evil  power  ever  again  disturb 
the  peaceful  fellowship,  of  the  faithful,  of  Ormuzd  and 
his  angels. 

An  intoxication,  of  divine  delirium  was  produced  by, 
this  religious  exaltation,  which  led  the  people  to  hope 
against  hope  and  which  blinded  them  somewhat  in 
their  otherwise  skillful  methods  of  promoting  traffic 
and  fortunes.  These  sublime  visions  and  sacred  writ- 
ings had  for  them  a  charm  that  nothing  could  set  aside 
or  divert. 

Augustus  had  found  it  convenient  to  maintain  a  sem- 
blance of  friendship  for  Herod,  the  Idumean  tyrant, 
whom  Antony  had  caused  to  be  recognized  by  the 
Roman  Senate  as  "The  King  of  the  Jews."  His  very 
race  was  hateful  to  this  people.  He  belonged  to  a 
country,  and  an  age,  in  which  human  life  was  of  no  par- 
ticular value;  and  a  people  among  whom  death  was 
given  and  accepted  with  almost  perfect  indifference. 
His  cruel  power  over  human  life  was  never  spared  by 
this  monster;  the  dearest  ties  of  kindred  were  never 
allowed  to  interfere  with  his  bloodthirsty  purposes. 
There  were  absolutely  no  exemptions. 

For  over  thirty  years  this  scourge  had  wrung  from 
a  suffering  people  the  substance  of  their  productions — 
by  dreadful  exactions  and  enormous  taxes.  This  trea- 
sure, drawn  through  his  tax-gatherers,  he  used,  as  a 
profligate,  to  pension  poets  at  Rome;  for  the  distribu- 
tion of  prizes  at  the  Olympian  games;  and  to  reward 
and  endow  his  cruel  emissaries  who  performed  his 
bidding  and  obeyed  his  commands;  at  the  same 
time  he  lost  no  opportunity,  or  excuse,  to  bring  into 


22  Joachim's  Daughter. 

contempt  the  institutions  held  dear  by  this  unfortunate 
nation. 

The  Sanhedrin  was  outraged  and  set  at  defiance ;  the 
high  priesthood  was  degraded;  the  laws  of  the  nation 
were  despised;  fear  and  terror  held  sway  over  those 
who  maintained  a  semblance  of  respect  for  the  ancient 
worship  of  the  fathers.  The  only  relief  afforded  this 
tryant  cursed  people  was  the  faraway  protection 
accorded  them  by  Augustus  and  the  Senate. 

Herod,  as  if  to  add  insult  to  injury,  had  embellished 
the  temple  and  caused  it  to  be  rebuilt  where  war,  age 
or  decay  had  placed  their  mar  upon  the  edifice.  In  its 
holy  offices  were  placed  creatures  of  his  own  making, 
to  minister  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  people  he 
represented. 

A  system  of  espionage  was  practiced  upon  the  rich 
and  opulent  so  quietly,  silently,  yet  with  such  unerring 
certainity,  that  no  movement  which  would  or  might 
interfere  with  his  designs  could  be  begun,  which  was 
not  invariably  crushed  in  its  incipiency ;  or,  if  permitted 
to  gain  any  headway  it  was  only  for  the  purpose  of 
involving  a  larger  number,  that  they  might  fall  a  prey 
to  his  vengence  and  avarice. 

The  prosperous  had  ever  before  them  the  dread 
object  ksson  of  death  and  confiscation. 


It  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  wise  men;  a  meeting 
of  the  Magi — the  prophets  of  the  time.  The  tablets, 
skins,  parchments  and  rolls  in  their  possession  were 
covered  with  written  characters  familiar  to  these  sages. 

The  times,  and  dividing  of  time,  were  measured, 
adjusted,  compared  and  arranged  to  accommodate  the 


The  Spy.  23 

interpretations  placed  upon  the  prophecies  concerning 
them.  These  earnest,  studious  men,  engaged  and 
interested  in  this,  to  them,  pursuit  of  timely  knowledge 
and  wisdom,  were  oblivious  to  their  surroundings  and 
to  all  occurrences  beyond  their  near  vicinity. 

A  ringing  certainty  permeated  their  inquiries  and 
investigations,  into  the  subject  matter  pertaining  to 
the  appearance  of  this  great  deliverer,  which  would  not 
allow  any  question  bordering  on  the  realm  of  doubt. 
The  testimony  in  their  possession  showed  the  time  to 
be  at  hand.  The  kingdom  was  nigh — the  consumma- 
tion of  the  age,  and  the  ushering  in  of  a  new  dispensa- 
tion was  assured. 

About  the  eyes  of  Joachim  a  supernatural  brightness 
was  noticeable,  and  his  venerable  face  shone  with  the 
light  of  hope  within  his  heart,  as  he  expressed  himself : 

"Of  the  seed  of  David  shall  he  be  raised  up  who 
shall  rule  the  people  in  righteousness.  Behold  the 
man  whose  name  is  The  Branch.  A  king  shall  reign 
and  prosper,  and  shall  execute  justice  and  judgment 
in  the  earth.  Judah  shall  be  saved  and  Israel  shall 
dwell  safely." 

As  to  the  event  itself,  and  its  close  proximity,  there 
was  a  unanimity  of  opinion,  but  they  disagreed  as  to 
the  manner  of  its  accomplishment. 

One  ventured  that  the  prince  would  burst  upon  an 
astonished  world ;  a  warrior  accompanied  by  an  invin- 
cible army  of  horse  and  foot,  armed  and  equipped  for 
the  fray,  incontestable  in  power  and  unconquerable  in 
his  march  of  conquest. 

Another  believed  that  this  personage  would  descend 
from  among  the  clouds,  surrounded  by  a  host  of  mighty 
angels,  with  banners  and  music ;  that  the  sound  of  his 
voice  would  waken  the  dead;  that  the  faithful  would 


24  Joachim's  Daughter. 

meet  the  deliverer  and  accompany  him,  sharing  in  the 
glory  of  victory  over  death,  hades  and  gehenna. 

And  yet  another  opinion  received  much  considera- 
tion and  thought.  A  child  shall  be  born,  who  shall  be 
a  light  to  lighten  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 
He  it  shall  be  who  shall  save  and  exalt  the  people  of 
Israel  and  be  the  hope  of  the  world. 

Herod  was  charged  with  establishing  within  the 
sacred  precincts  of  the  Holy  of  Holies,  the  abomination 
that  maketh  desolate.  The  sum  of  all  sacrilegious  vil- 
lany  had  been  performed  in  the  profanation  of  the  sanc- 
tuary at  Jerusalem,  and  the  time  must  be  ripe  for  the 
destruction  of  such  wickedness. 

"Surely  the  Lord  would  no  longer  withhold  his 
hand." 

This  conference  lasted  all  the  morning,  and  the  sun 
was  nearing  the  meridian,  when  a  solitary  horseman 
might  have  been  seen  approaching,  who  came  from  the 
south  by  way  of  the  wilderness. 

On  coming  in  view  of  the  place  of  the  meeting,  he 
drew  rein  and  quickly  dismounted.  Leading  the  horse 
to  a  shady  place,  where  the  rocks  completely  hid  the 
animal,  the  new  arrival  secured  his  beast  out  of  sight 
an.d  hearing  of  the  persons  on  the  other  side  of  the 
roadway.  Casting  his  outer  garment  on  the  ground 
near  by,  he  drew  his  girdle  closer  about  his  waist  and 
immediately  proceeded  to  move  out  toward  the  road 
leading  to  the  encampment. 

At  his  left  side,  thrust  into  his  girdle,  was  a  pecul- 
iarly formed  instrument,  shaped  more  like  a  cleaver 
than  a  sword.  Placing  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  this  ugly 
and  formidable  weapon,  he  carefully  wormed  his  way 
along,  with  cat-like  stealth  and  caution  toward  the 
canopy. 


The  Spy.  25 

A  fierce,  greedy,  covetuous  glitter  sparkled  with 
snake-like  glint  from  his  eyes — while  a  malignant,  sar- 
donic expression  overspread  his  swarthy,  black  fea- 
tures— producing  an  unmistakable  impression  as  to 
the  evil  character  of  this  man.  He  was  clothed  in  a 
close  fitting,  greenish  colored  tunic,  which  blended  with 
the  surrounding  verdure;  without  his  movements  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  discover  his  presence  even 
at  a  short  distance. 

Swiftly,  but  nevertheless  carefully,  he  made  his  way 
in  the  direction  of  the  cotton  canopy,  from  where  the 
voices  of  the  occupants  distinctly  reached  him  as  he 
occasionally  paused  to  reconnoiter,  in  evident  concern 
lest  the  servants  discovered  his  approach. 

During  one  of  these  halts,  while  protected  by  the 
shelter  of  a  clump  of  shrubbery,  the  curtain  door  of  one 
of  the  tents  was  raised  and,  for  a  moment,  the  beauti- 
ful face  and  form  of  the  damsel,  called  Mary,  was 
exposed  to  view. 

Instantly  the  gaze  of  the  intruder  was  fastened  upon 
this  vision  of  angelic  perfection.  The  hot  breath  of 
passion  seethed  through  his  distended  nostrils;  his 
bosom  heaved — his  feet  fairly  rooted  themselves  into 
the  earth  as  he  craned  his  body  forward  to  drink  in 
the  voluptuous  beauty  of  the  maiden,  whose 
wavy  tresses  were  falling  gracefully  over  her 
shoulders  of  alabaster  whiteness;  and  whose 
face  was  radiant  with  womanly  comeliness  and  unaf- 
fected modesty. 

For  only  a  short  time  she  stood  at  the  door  of  the 
tent  looking  toward  the  place  where  her  father  was 
engaged,  then  she  disappeared  within,  unconscious  of 
any  threatening  danger,  either  to  herself  or  those  she 
loved. 


26  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"How  beautiful!"  exclaimed  the  man  in  a  hissing 
undertone,  as  if  surprised  and  overcome  with  wonder. 

A  swift  run  brought  him  so  close  to  the  back  of  the 
shelter,  where  the  Magi  consulted  together,  that  he 
could  have  touched  the  curtain  with  his  hand  had  he 
so  minded.  Quietly  drawing  the  weapon  from  his 
girdle,  he  noiselessly  slit  a  small  hole  in  the  cotton  par- 
tition, through  which  he  peered  at  the  persons  who 
composed  the  party  on  the  other  side. 

The  spy  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  conversation, 
now  perfectly  audible,  he  made,  however,  such  obser- 
vations as  were  by  him  deemed  necessary  and  sufficient. 
After  a  searching  glance  in  the  direction  of  the  tents,, 
where  the  servants  seemed  to  be  sleeping,  he  withdrew 
as  silently  as  he  had  approached.  Gathering  his  dis- 
carded garment  from  the  ground  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  away  in  the  direction  from  which  he  had 
come. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  WIZARD  OF  JERUSALEM. 

When  a  safe  distance  separated  him  from  the  scene, 
just  described,  the  solitary  horseman  urged  his  beast 
into  a  brisk  canter.  This  pace  soon  carried  him  beyond 
danger  of  discovery,  and  brought  him  to  a  path,  wind- 
ing among  huge  rocks.  He  drew  rein  and  guided  the 
horse  into  the  narrow,  devious  way.  The  rugged  char- 
acter of  the  path  compelled  him  to  advance  slowly  and 
with  care  until,  at  last,  he  was  forced  to  dismount. 

After  moving  for  some  distance  in  this  manner,  indi- 
cation, of  the  presence  of  others  in  the  vicinity,  was 
given  by  the  neigh  of  a  horse.  Turning  at  the  base  of 
a  rocky  eminence,  flanking  a  level  acre  or  more  of 
ground,  these  others  were  revealed — three  men  stand- 
ing near  a  tent  which  had  been  erected  in  the  shelter  of 
the  rocks,  while  their  horses  grazed  within  this  natural 
enclosure. 

They  wore  costumes  similar  to  that  of  the  spy,  who 
rapidly  approached.  This,  and  their  actions,  made  it 
plain  that  they  all  belonged  to  the  same  party,  and 
that  the  coming  of  the  new  arrival  was  expected. 

Giving  his  animal  liberty,  that  it  might  graze  with 
the  other  horses,  the  spy  made  his  way  directly  toward 
where  the  men  silently  waited;  one,  the  chief,  stand- 
ing somewhat  in  front  of  the  other  two.  The  new- 
comer singled  out  this  man  and  saluted  him  in  the 
eastern  manner. 

27 


28  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Sheik,"  he  murmured,  "Solan  Hai — behold  thy 
servant !" 

"Melsach — thy  feet  are  swift.  Hast  thou  accom- 
plished the  thing  whereunto  thou  wast  sent?"  Solan 
Hai  looked  keenly  into  the  immobile  countenance  of 
his  messenger. 

"Thy  servant  hath  obeyed  thy  commands,"  answered 
Melsach,  returning  the  gaze  of  his  questioner. 

"'Tis  well,  thou  child  of  the  desert!  Tell  us,  what 
sawest  thou !" 

"Four  sheiks,  in  conference — gray  bearded  and  wise 
visaged,  six  tents,  horses  and  camels,  to  thy  servant's 
mind,  not  more  than  eight  people." 

"Thou  observed  Joachim,  of  Jerusalem,  the  one  of 
whom  thou  wast  especially  charged?" 

"He  it  was  who  led  the  conference.  Prated  most 
about  the  'deliverer' — and  against  Herod." 

"Hah!  The  king  forgets  not  a  compliment  of  the 
kind.  Knowest  thou  the  very  spot  where  he  may  be 
found?" 

"Were  it  dark  as  Tophet,  I  could  guide  thee  thither." 

"'Tis  well,  Melsach,  Son  of  the  East.  Thou  and  thy 
companions  may  rest  until  I  call  thee." 

Leaving  the  chieftain  alone,  the  three  other  men  be- 
took themselves  to  the  shade  of  the  tent,  which  was 
pitched  close  to  where  the  interview  had  taken  place. 

Solan  Hai  was  of  short  stature  and  powerful  build, 
the  shoulders  stooped  in  such  manner  as  to  give  him 
the  appearance  of  a  hunchback;  bowed,  hollow  chest; 
extraordinarily  long  arms  and  prodigiously  large 
hands.  His  face  was  not  so  dark  and  swarthy  as  those 
of  his  companions,  but  more  of  a  sallow  color  with  thin, 
chisled  features,  heavy  brows  and  a  large  beaked  nose. 
The  brow  was  knit  and  a  sinister  expression  was  over 


The  Wizard  of  Jerusalem.  29 

the  face  of  this  creature,  like  a  terrible  pall.  An  abun- 
dant crop  of  brownish  red  hair  helped  to  make  him  a 
grotesque  object,  of  the  genus  homo.  His  uncouth  vis- 
age portrayed  the  very  essence  of  villiany;  his  huge 
body  was  supported  on  a  pair  of  bowed  limbs ;  feet  of 
enormous  dimensions  were  attached  thereto  in  propor- 
tion to  his  hands.  These  abnormal  appendages  were 
encased  in  rough  fitting  sandals  laced  over  close  drawn 
leggings. 

There  could  be  no  mistake — the  mark  of  Cain  had 
been  born  with  this  monster.  Commiseration  and 
pity  were  as  far  removed  from  his  nature  as  the  east 
is  separated  from  the  west.  There  was  in  his  vocabu- 
lary no  word  that  did  not  reverberate  with  supreme 
human  selfishness.  His  herculean  build  and  muscular 
strength,  combined  with  his  cunning  craft  and  a  certain 
deceitfulness,  gave  him  power  over  those  attached  to 
his  fortunes,  men  reckless  to  every  danger,  whom  he 
controlled  and  governed  with  an  iron  hand. 

Notwithstanding  his  hugh,  uncouth  and  apparently, 
deformed  body,  there  was  a  tiger  like  activity  about  his 
movements  that  made  him  a  terrible  and  dangerous 
antagonist.  He  was  armed  with  the  same  kind  of  a 
weapon  as  his  companion,  Melsach,  except  that  the 
instrument  was  much  heavier  and  more  formidable  in 
appearance. 

Seating  himself  on  a  convenient  rock,  the  chief  fell 
into  meditation,  and,  while  forming  plans  of  operation, 
he  chuckled  to  himself  as  though  the  matter  in  hand 
afforded  him  a  vast  amount  of  satisfaction. 

"The  friend  of  Herod  must  be  the  enemy  of  the 
rest  of  mankind — ha !  ha !  ha !  If  Joachim  escapes,  my 
beautiful  head  is  in  danger — he'll  not,  No!  No!  The 
order  is  that  he  is  not  to  see  Jerusalem — never  again, 


30  Joachim's  Daughter. 

no  never."  He  clinched  his  huge  hands  and  shrugged 
his  broad  shoulders. 

"The  belongings  in  his  possession  are  to  be  ours, 
and  five  hundred  shekels  of  gold  as  a  gift.  Ah!  the 
gift  shall  be  mine !"  His  lip  dropped  and  his  face  pro- 
truded forward  as  a  look  of  fiendish  anticipation  shot 
across  his  diabolical  features. 

"Must  not  molest  the  Persian  wizards.  Augh !  As 
if  a  life  or  two  could  make  any  manner  of  difference. 
Forsooth!  They  must  be  allowed  a  safe  conduct. 
Herod  is  a  great  master — so  let  it  be!"  Arising  he 
shambled  over  to  where  the  others  were  engaged. 

One  of  them  was  occupied  in  preparing  a  meal,  while 
the  other  two  had  a  skin  spread  between  them  and  were 
indulging  in  the  ancient  pastime  of  shaking  dice  for 
pieces  of  silver. 

"Men,"  said  the  ruffian,  interrupting  the  game,  "we 
must  watch  the  road  until  the  Persian  sheiks  return 
and  pass  by  this  way.  This  way  they  came  and  this 
way  they  will  return.  As  soon  as  they  are  safe  on  the 
way  we  shall  overtake  the  tents  of  Joachim.  See  to  it, 
he  finds  a  funeral  at  Hebron.  It  is  fitting  his  body  be 
laid  in  the  sepulchre  of  his  fathers.  Our  dear  kinsman 
is  Joachim.  He  is  well  stricken  in  years.  The  demons 
are  waiting  to  carry  his  soul  to  Abraham's  bosom.  I 
have  said !" 

"So  be  it !"  responded,  in  chorus,  the  three  who  had 
listened  to  this  harangue. 

The  two  gamblers  resumed  their  play  as  if  the  tak- 
ing of  life  was  a  small  matter  quickly  disposed  of, 
while  their  companion  resumed  the  preparation  of  the 
meal. 

Melsach  kept  to  himself  the  knowledge  of  the  dam- 
sel, who  was  in  the  company  of  the  prophets.  Although 


The  Wizard  of  Jerusalem.  31 

he  was  interested  in  the  game,  still  his  mind  wandered 
to  the  beautiful  vision  he  had  beheld  on  that  day.  To 
which  party  she  belonged  whether  the  Persian  or 
Hebrew,  he  had  no  means  of  determining.  If  to  the 
one  which  might  be  expected  to  pass  this  way,  within 
a  day  or  two,  at  the  farthest,  it  was  a  grave  question, 
with  even  him,  as  to  any  interferance  with  the  safe 
conduct  afforded  them  by  the  sheik. 

"Thou  hast  won,  son  of  a  dog!" 

"True,  thou  art  fairer  than  the  average,  else  thou 
would'st  have  cheated.  I  was  thinking,"  answered  the 
absent  minded  Melsach. 

"Knaves  indulge  not  with  profit  in  such  pastime.  By 
the  king  of  the  Jews,  art  thou  turned  sage !  Hast  the 
smell  of  the  prophets  made  thee  expect  the  great  deliv- 
erer !  If  thou  art  tired,  let  us  quit,  luck  is  with  thee  at 
every  turn." 

The  meal  at  this  juncture  was  announced  as  being  in 
readiness  and  waiting.  The  men  gathered  around  the 
repast  of  baked,  crushed  cereals,  which  was  accom- 
panied with  wine  from  a  leather  bottle,  from  which 
each  drank  in  turn.  The  repast  was  dispatched  in  silence 
and  without  comment. 

Whatever  designs  Melsach  had,  if  any,  affecting  the 
damsel  called  Mary,  were  covered  up  and  kept  within 
his  own  breast. 

There  was  a  short  consultation  among  the  men. 

Melsach  entered  into  the  plans  of  the  sheik  with  ala- 
crity. He  was  the  first  of  the  four  to  take  up  the  duty 
of  sentinel,  and,  from  a  commanding  position,  watched 
the  road  leading  south  from  the  camp  of  the  prophets 
toward  the  wilderness.  Here  he  waited  patiently,  and 
carefully  noted  everything  which  occurred  during  the 


32  Joachim's  Daughter. 

day  until  relieved  by  one  of  his  companions  late  in  the 
afternoon. 

However  and  from  wherever  these  personages  had 
received  their  information,  they  were  conversant  with 
the  fact  that  these  wise  men  were  to  meet.  Within  a 
day,  or  at  most  two  days,  they  would  separate,  the  men 
from  the  East  returning  to  their  homes  in  Arabia,  Baby- 
lon or  Persia.  It  mattered  little  as  to  their  final 
destination,  or  the  country  from  whence  they  came. 

The  Partheans  and  the  Medians  were  the  enemies 
of  Rome.  To  the  bandits,  all  persons  from  the  east 
were  Persians,  as  all  from  the  west  were  Romans. 
From  some  higher  quarter  they  had  evidently  been 
ordered  to  give  these  eastern  personages  a  safe  conduct 
toward  Arabia,  to  which  order  there  was  a  compelling 
power  demanding  obedience. 

Melsach,  himself,  was  not  quite  certain  that  it  would 
be  prudent  to  interfere  with  these  travelers  if  the 
woman  should  be  in  their  company.  But  he  had  deter- 
mined if  possible  to  assure  himself  of  this  fact,  hence 
his  willingness  to  assume  and  perform  the  tiresome 
duty  of  sentinel.  Interest,  in  this  matter,  was  consum- 
ing him,  nothing  must  pass  without  his  notice.  What 
he  might  do  should  she  pass  by  this  way  was 
not  defined — but,  that  he  would  do  something  which 
would  effect  the  welfare  of  Mary,  admitted  of  no  man- 
ner of  doubt. 

As  the  sun  was  setting  behind  the  hills  his  compan- 
ion joined  him,  the  one  of  the  dice  game.  He  imparted 
the  information  toMelsach,  that,  by  order  of  Solan  Hai, 
it  would  be  necessary  to  take  up  a  station  near  the  pub- 
lic way,  so  there  could  be  no  possibility  of  these  persons 
passing  through  the  night  without  the  information 
reaching  the  chieftain.  The  two  men  walked  along 


The  Wizard  of  Jerusalem.  33 

in  company  for  a  short  distance  toward  the  new  watch- 
ing place  before  Melsach  accepted  his  relief. 

'Thou  hast  always  been  my  friend,"  spoke  Melsach, 
abruptly  addressing  his  companion. 

"Speakest  thou  with  doubt,  Melsach?  Were  we  not 
raised  by  the  same  Idumean  mother?" 

"Truly,  but — "  hesitatingly,  "dost  thou  not  fear 
Solan  Hai,  who  communes  with  the  dead  and  hath  a 
familiar  spirit?" 

The  two  stopped  in  their  journey,  faced  each  other 
and,  of  a  verity,  a  look  of  consternation  and  fear  over- 
spread the  features  of  the  man  addressed  by  Melsach, 
as  his  mind  was  refreshed  as  to  the  supposed  attributes 
and  powers  of  Solan  Hai,  the  wizard. 

"Hist!"  whispered  the  bandit,  as  he  looked  around 
expecting  to  behold  the  form  of  his  chieftain,  whose 
dread  presence  held  a  spell  over  the  lives  of  these  igno- 
rant, dark  minded  men. 

"Hist!  The  very  winds  obey  him.  The  prince  of 
the  power  of  the  air  will  carry  him  our  every  word !" 

To  add  solemnity,  weird  and  startling,  to  this 
admonition  the  gentle  wind  at  evening  twilight  sighed 
among  the  rocks,  whispering  to  the  superstitious,  untu- 
tored mind  a  warning  of  the  dire  consequences  certain 
to  follow  the  first  intimation  of  disloyalty. 

An  awed  silence  lay  for  a  moment  between  the  two, 
then  Melsach  recovered  from  his  momentary  dread  and 
returned  to  the  subject  uppermost  in  his  thoughts. 

"My  brother,  if  there  be  a  woman  with  the  company 
as  they  pass  by,  withold  the  information  except  to  the 
son  of  thy  mother.  This  is  a  small  favor  between  us." 

"Ah,  my  brother,  we  may  not  do  such  a  thing.  Surely 
the  wizard  will  divine  the  whole  matter,  and  know  of 
a  certainty  as  to  all  the  persons." 


34  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  fool!"  cried  Melsach,  impatiently.  "If  so, 
why  should  he  send  us  to  watch?  Could  he  not  do 
some  of  his  divining  without  the  trouble  of  watching? 
Bah!"  and  he  spat  out  to  show  his  contempt.  "Thou 
must  do  it,  my  share  of  Joachim's  belongings  shall  be 
thine;  they  say  he  carries  rich  treasure  with  him 
always."  This  appeal  overcame  the  man's  superstition, 
aroused  his  avaricious  cupidity  and  sealed  the  arrange- 
ment. 

"I'll  do  as  thou  hast  suggested,"  he  said  slowly, 
"but—" 

"But,  nothing  ?'  hastily  interrupted  Melsach.  "Con- 
sequences shall  rest  on  my  head,  shall  be  laid  at  my 
door,  thou  shalt  be  exonerated  in  all  things  and 
rewarded.  Lay  thy  hand  on  thy  brother's  thigh  and 
swear  thou  wilt  be  true  to  me,  thy  friend,  in  this 
thing." 

The  two  men  placed  their  knees  together,  crossed 
their  arms  and  placed  their  hands  on  each  other's 
thighs. 

"Swear!"  exclaimed  Melsach. 

"I  swear,"  answered  the  man  compelled  by  the  force 
of  Melsach's  energy,  "ever  to  be  true  to  the  son  of  our 
mother,  Eloheim  protect  and  keep  me  true  to  this  vow." 

"Amen!  Eloheim  guard  thee,  my  brother," 
responded  Melsach. 

This  queer  mixture  of  superstition  and  unconsum- 
mated  deviltry  satisfied  Melsach.  Leaving  his  brother 
he  returned  with  all  speed  to  the  camp  on  the  green 
sward  within  the  hills. 

Solan  Hai,  the  wizard,  was  still  awake  when  Mel- 
sach drew  near,  while  the  other  member  of  this  band 
lay  stretched  on  the  ground,  snoring  in  ignorance  and 


The  Wizard  of  Jerusalem.  35 

oblivion  of  every  thing  that  might  be  occurring  about 
him. 

The  pale  moonlight  only  served  to  deepen  the  shad- 
ows that  reached  their  grotesque  lengths  across  the 
grass.  The  uncanny  appearance  of  the  place  caused 
Melsach  to  quicken  his  pace  until  he  came  in  sight  of 
his  sheik,  who  was  walking  to  and  fro  before  the  tent 
muttering  something  to  himself.  The  bandit  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  linger  in  the  shadow  and  listen 
to  the  soliloquy  of  his  master. 

"Listen  to  the  sound  of  the  wretch's  sleep!"  and  he 
paused  to  gaze  on  the  prostrate  slumberer.  "Dost  thy 
soul  wander  midst  the  shades  of  hades,  or  in  the  realms 
of  the  blessed.  The  wizard  knows  neither  fear  nor 
love.  I  hate  even  these  slaves,  who,  dog  like,  fondle  the 
hand  which  strikes.  Still  there  is  something  about  this 
mission,  something  about  this  gray  bearded  Joachim, 
that  makes  my  knees  quake  and  my  heart  sick  as  it 
presses  on  my  soul." 

"I  was  in  fever.  Thirst  and  the  pains  of  gehenna 
racked  my  deformed  body.  Thy  hands,  of  them  all, 
oh,  Joachim,  ministered  to  my  comfort.  All !  All ! 
Curse  them;  laughed,  jeered,  mocked  at  my  calamity. 
Thou  alone  turned  in  unto  me.  Thou  alone  gave  me 
succor  and  comfort.  Herod  wills  thy  death.  Irony  of 
fate,  the  wizard,  Solan  Hai,  must  be  thy  executioner. 
The  one  thou  nursed  back,  back  from  hell ;  the  reptile 
thou  didst  warm  into  life  must  bite  thee.  The  snake 
thou  didst  take  within  the  warmth  of  thy  breast  must 
fasten  its  fangs  into  thy  vitals.  Bah!  It  is  but  its 
nature!  The  sum  and  substance  of  all  villany  is  to 
betrav  and  strike  a  benefactor." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  PERFECT  MAN. 

"Thou  here,  Melsach,  thou  dog's  son?"  exclaimed 
the  wizard  fiercely. 

"Thy  servant,  oh  sheik!"  answered  Melsach,  as  he 
prostrated  himself  before  the  brute  rendered  insane  by 
anger,  because  of  having  been  discovered  in  a  moment 
of  weakness.  "Be  not  angry  with  thy  friend.  He  who 
hath  always  been  ready  to  serve  and  obey  thee,"  pleaded 
the  cringing  wretch,  as  he  ventured  to  look  up  into  the 
face  of  the  furious  chief  frowning  over  him. 

"Arise,"  commanded  the  wizard.  Grasping  Melsach 
by  the  wrist  he  fairly  whirled  him  to  his  feet,  swinging 
him  around  so  that  the  moonbeams  shone  directly  on 
the  pallid  features  of  the  thoroughly  terrified  eavesdrop- 
per who  had  brought  on  his  own  head  the  wrath  of 
offended  dignity. 

Solan  Hai  knew  that  his  minion  had  been  listening, — 
true  to  his  nature,  playing  the  spy.  The  wizard  could 
not  be  deceived.  This  show  of  fierceness  was  by  no 
means  assumed,  it  was  real.  He  gazed  into  the  face 
of  Melsach,  with  a  murderous  glitter  in  his  eyes,  as  if 
he  would  penetrate  the  very  soul  of  the  man. 

"Tell  me,  Melsach,"  he  demanded  with  terrible  ear- 
nestness, "the  secrets  of  thy  soul.  Keep  not  back  one 
jot  nor  tittle." 

Poor  Melsach  was  fully  persuaded  that  the  wizard 
knew  all,  everything,  of  his  plans  pertaining  to  the 

36 


A  Perfect  Man.  37 

damsel ;  and  in  his  abject  fear,  was  about  to  blurt  out 
the  whole  matter,  as  to  his  discovery  at  the  camp  of  the 
prophets.  Before  he  had  recovered  enough  to  do  this, 
however,  the  wizard  continued : 

"Tell  me,  thou  didst  hear  me  speak  of  Joachim?" 

"'Tis  true.  I  could  not  forebear  without  wads  to 
stop  my  ears,"  Melsach  answered  with  a  return  of  his 
reckless  indifference. 

"Hark  thee,  Melsach,  friend  of  Solan  Hai."  A 
marked  change  came  over  the  demeanor  of  the  superior 
with  an  unwonted  kindliness  in  the  tone  of  voice 
strange  to  the  ears  of  the  slave.  "Hitherto,  thou  hast 
been  my  companion.  Henceforth,  thou  shalt  be  my 
friend.  Solan  Hai  hath  never  prayed  for  favors  from 
any  living  man.  Dost  thou  understand,  Melsach?"  and 
the  grasp  in  which  the  chief  had  held  his  confederate 
was  loosened,  though  he  still  continued  to  gaze  into 
the  face  of  the  man. 

"Thy  servant  would  be  thy  servant  only,"  promptly 
answered  the  man,  pleased  with  the  turn  things  had 
taken. 

"Thou  wilt  then  grant  my  request  more  readily.  The 
wishes  and  commands  of  Herod  must  be  obeyed. 
Joachim  must  die.  Thou  wast  a  bandit  condemned  to 
the  cross.  The  night  before  the  time  set  for  thy  exe- 
cution, liberty  was  bestowed  upon  thee.  A  slave,  whose 
only  fault  lay  in  his  resemblance  to  thee,  was  hung 
between  earth  and  heaven  in  thy  stead.  Thou  hast  not 
forgotten?" 

"Could  I  ever  forget,  Oh,  my  master !"  and  Melsach 
shivered  even  in  the  balmy  air  of  the  mild  night. 

"This  is  the  first  time,  for  fifteen  years,  and  more,  that 
ever  the  matter  hath  been  referred  to  by  thy  chieftain." 

"True,  my  benefactor." 


38  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  would'st  cancel  the  obligation?" 

"If  thy  slave  could  be  so  fortunate." 

"Harken,  son  of  my  choice!  Thou  must  act  in  my 
stead,  in  my  place.  Art  thou  listening?" 

Melsach  bowed  low  to  conceal  the  satisfaction  that 
might  be  betrayed,  should  Solan  Hai  see  his  face. 

"Each  particular  word  is  treasured  in  my  soul,"  he 
said  suavely.  "To  do  thy  worst  bidding  shall  be  thy 
servant's  greatest  pleasure." 

Solan  Hai  turned  abruptly  away.  With  quick  strides 
he  measured  the  distance  to  the  outskirts  of  the  little 
camp.  Returning,  he  paused  before  Melsach  and  began 
speaking,  half  to  the  waiting  man  and  half  to  his  own 
perturbed  self. 

"I  cannot,  no !  no !  I  cannot  face  that  mighty  man. 
Oh !  Joachim,  son  of  the  morning  to  my  soul,  thy  fin- 
gers were  so  cool ;  thy  presence  so  kindly  and  compas- 
sionate; thy  face  the  only  thing  on  earth  that  ever  spoke 
peace  to  my  soul,  no!  no!  no!"  And  he  placed  his 
hands  before  his  face  as  if  he  would  shut  from  his 
vision  some  horrid  scene. 

"Melsach!  Thou  shalt  represent  me.  I  cannot, 
I  cannot,  I  will  not  do  this  thing." 

It  began  to  dawn  upon  the  mind  of  Melsach  that  he 
was  being  suddenly  advanced  into  the  favor  and  good 
graces  of  Solan  Hai.  His  natural  discretion  was 
brought  into  requisition  and  he  coolly  waited  for  the 
further  development  of  the  matter  which  so  strangely 
agitated  this  remarkable  person. 

After  standing  for  a  short  time  with  bowed  head 
Solan  looked  up  and,  turning  again  to  Melsach,  hastily 
made  known  his  wishes. 

"Thou  wilt  take  charge  of  this  mission.  When  the 
Magi  have  passed,  take  thy  brother  and  this  sluggard," 


A  Perfect  Man.  39 

pointing  to  the  prostrate  man,  "and  attack  Joachim's 
camp.  There  are  two  servants  beside  the  priest.  Thou 
wilt  have  but  little  trouble  in  securing  the  plunder, 
enough  to  satisfy  thy  companions.  Thy  friend  shall 
reward  thee  with  his  own  hand.  When  thou  comest 
into  the  tent  of  the  patriarch,  or  if  thou  mayst  fall  upon 
him  by  the  way,  then  shalt  thou  seek  cause  against  his 
life  and  smite  him  unto  death." 

"The  plunder  secured,  why  not  let  him  escape  ?"  ques- 
tioned Melsach,  grown  bold  as  he  listened  to  the  unfold- 
ing of  Solan's  plans. 

"Herod  wills  it  otherwise,"  was  the  moody  reply. 
"He  is  already — dead." 

"His  fault,  Oh,  Sheik?" 

"He  is  of  the  house  and  lineage  of  David,  who  was 
the  son  of  Abraham,  who  was  the  friend  of  God.  He 
is  the  owner  of  large  warehouses  at  Jerusalem,  Jerico 
and  Damascus  filled  with  the  richest  merchandise  of 
the  east.  This  graybeard  hath  been  a  thrifty  trader. 
Herod  cannot  live  and  brook  such  a  combination."  The 
scorn  in  the  speaker's  eyes  blended  well  with  the  sarcas- 
tic tone  of  his  voice  as  he  enumerated  the  reasons  for 
which  Herod  deemed  it  meet  that  Joachim  should  die. 

"If  he  be  so  rich  and  the  Jews  learn  of  his  death, 
will  they  not  set  up  a  clamor  that  will  bring  down 
inquiries  and  vengeance  from  Ceasar  and  the  Roman 
Senate?"  objected  Melsach. 

"We  must  care  for  that.  Confiscation  must  follow 
death.  Thou,  and  thy  companions,  shall  witness  to  his 
sedition  and  rebellion,  in  the  matter  of  this  Deliverer, 
who  is  to  be  king  instead  of  Herod ;  that  he  conferred 
and  consorted  with  the  enemies  of  Rome,  the  Parthians 
and  others;  that  he  used  his  vast  possessions  for  such 
purposes,  all  of  which  acts  and  doings  are  well  known, 


4O  Joachim's  Daughter. 

so  that  Jerusalem  shall  cry  out  with  acquisition  against 
his  name  until  it  shall  be  a  by-word  and  a  hissing.  Fail 
not  thou  in  thy  part.  The  rest  leave  to  the  wizard.  Go, 
seek  repose.  Thou  canst  not  tell  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth." 

Solan  Hai  had  regained  his  composure  and  he  evid- 
ently had  said  all  that  he  cared  to  say  for  the  present. 

After  a  glance,  into  the  unfathomable  features  of  the 
sheik,  Melsach  again  bo\ved  himself  to  the  ground  and 
turned  away.  He  could  scarcely  help  disclosing  to 
his  chief  the  satisfaction  afforded  him  by  this  arrange- 
ment. He  chuckled  to  himself,  in  a  very  delirium  of 
delight,  as  he  grasped  the  good  fortune  which  was 
working  toward  placing  within  his  power  the  beautiful 
maiden,  the  memory  of  whom  filled  his  mind  with 
unholy  passion  and  desire. 

To  have  accomplished  this,  he  would  have  plunged 
his  poinard  into  the  breast  of  the  wizard  with  as  little 
hesitancy  as  it  might  require  to  strike  down  an  innocent 
and  defenseless  father,  and  rob  him  of  the  most  precious 
jewel  of  all  his  vast  possessions. 

Pulling  a  skin  from  out  the  tent  and  rolling  it  into 
a  pillow  he  was  soon  wrapped  in  uneasy  slumber,  while 
Solan  Hai  continued  to  walk  and  muse  in  the  pale 
moonlight  watches  of  the  night.  At  last  he  too,  fairly 
exhausted  by  the  raging  conflict  troubling  his  soul, 
sought  repose  within  the  tent. 

Long  before  the  dawn  Melsach  had  joined  his 
brother,  who  had  watched  faithfully  through  the  night. 
As  yet  the  travelers  had  not  passed  on  their  return 
journey.  An  interval  was  improved,  by  Melsach,  in 
skillfully  arousing  the  energy  and  cupidity  of  his 
brother,  but  not  a  word  was  said  as  to  the  conference 
with  the  wizard  the  night  before. 


A  Perfect  Man.  41 

When  Solan  Hai  awoke,  in  the  morning,  he  made 
inquiries  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  his  lieutenant.  When 
he  learned  that  Melsach  had  joined  his  brother  in  the 
watches,  of  the  morning,  he  rubbed  his  hands  with  glee. 

\Yith  the  assistance  of  the  remaining  man,  three  of 
the  horses  were  made  ready  for  a  journey.  When  this 
was  finished  Solan  took  two  of  the  animals,  and  order- 
ing his  companion  to  bring  the  other,  set  out  toward 
the  highway.  They  moved  slowly  and  with  caution, 
the  first  glimmering  of  the  new  day  was  barely  visible 
as  they  started  on  the  journey.  The  chieftain  was  act- 
ing to  lose  the  least  time.  To  have  the  animals  conven- 
ient would  serve  this  purpose.  As  they  approached  the 
highway,  one  of  the  watchers  was  observed  hastening 
toward  them.  It  proved  to  be  Melsach,  who  on  seeing 
the  horses,  quickened  his  pace.  Coming  to  a  place  where 
the  more  even  pathway  would  permit  him  to  mount 
safely  he  awaited  his  master.' 

"The  sheiks  have  passed.  They  are  now  well  out  of 
sight,"  was  his  greeting  as  the  two  men  came  up  to 
him. 

"'Tis  well,  my  son,  mount  at  once." 

Melsach  did  so  and  secured  the  lead  line  of  the  other 
horse.  The  other  man  hesitated  as  he  saw  this  move- 
ment of  his  companion. 

"Mount  and  follow  Melsach,"  ordered  the  leader 
briefly.  The  reason  of,  or  for,  the  conduct  of  the  wizard, 
in  thus  remaining  behind  was,  of  course,  a  mystery  to 
the  bandit.  Yet,  he  obeyed  the  command  forthwith, 
and  asked  no  questions,  made  no  complaints,  nor  did  he 
presume  to  offer  any  suggestions,  it  was  sufficient  for 
him  to  know  that  before  him  lay  the  path  which  led  to 
plunder  and  booty. 

Solan  Hai  stood  and  gazed  after  the  men  as  they 


42  Joachim's  Daughter. 

passed  quickly  out  of  sight.  Muttering  something  to 
himself  he  turned  back  toward  the  place  he  had  recently 
left,  to  wait  the  return  of  these  heartless  robbers  bent 
on  their  murderous  undertaking. 

Reaching  the  place  where  his  brother  was  waiting 
Melsach  paused  for  a  moment  until  the  former  was  in 
the  saddle,  then  he  started,  leading  for  the  place  he  had 
visited  on  the  day  previous.  Melsach  had  been  careful 
to  note  with  his  own  eyes  the  number  of  people  in  the 
company  of  those  from  the  east.  The  maid  was  not 
among  them.  He  concluded  that  she  must  be  in  some 
way  related  to  Joachim.  He  remembered  the  locality 
where  the  tent  was  situated  and  his  mind  dwelt  on  the 
spot  as  though  it  held  a  magnetic  charm. 

There  was  no  conversation  among  the  men.  Mel- 
sach was  occupied  with  his  own  plans.  He  would  seize 
the  damsel,  and  fly  with  her  to  the  mountains.  Solan 
Hai  would  be  satisfied,  no  doubt,  if  the  prophet  were 
dispatched.  As  soon  as  his  prize  was  safely  secured 
be  did  not  anticipated  any  danger  in  returning  to  the 
service  of  Solan  Hai. 

The  other  two  were  silently  wheting  their  avarice  on 
the  hope  of  much  booty,  Joachim  was  reputed  to  be  a 
very  rich  person,  and  they  had  heard,  that  he  always 
carried  much  wealth  about  with  him. 


Before  ±he  dawn  Joachim's  eastern  visitors  had 
struck  their  tents  and  departed  as  quietly  as  they  had 
come.  The  two  servants  who  cared  for  the  belongings 
of  the  patriarch  were  also  alert  and  busy  with  the  pre- 
parations for  their  own  return  journey  toward  Jerusa- 
lem. 


A  Perfect  Man.  43 

The  camp  of  the  Magi,  made  sacred  and  endeared  to 
these  men  by  association  and  brotherly  communion,  was 
a  thing  of  the  past.  Joachim  and  the  lovely  Mary  were. 
seated  in  the  only  tent  standing,  prepared  to  undertake 
the  journey  that  was  before  them.  The  two  servants 
directed  and  assisted  by  Joseph  were  moving  about 
packing  the  faithful  camel  and  strapping  the  outfit 
together. 

The  gray  of  the  dawn  was  slowly  merging  into  day. 
A  horseman  approached  Joseph,  a  splendid  specimen 
of  matured  manhood.  There  was  not  the  slightest  trace 
of  the  Jew  about  him,  either  in  figure,  form,  feature  or 
movement.  That  he  was  not  a  native  of  Judea,  or,  in 
fact,  any  of  the  Jewish  provinces  was  apparent. 
Although  a  man  young  in  years  there  was  a  bearing 
about  him  which  bespoke  experience  and  confidence,  a 
firmness  in  his  every  movement  and  gesture,  that 
marked  the  traveler  accustomed  to  the  company  and 
association  of  refined  people.  An  open  frankness  beamed 
from  his  countenance  which  would  have  accorded  him 
favor  at  once,  and  which  went  far  to  introduce  him  to 
the  good  opinion  and  graces  of  all  with  whom  he  came 
in  contact. 

About  his  carriage  was  the  erectness  which  can  be 
attained  only  through  military  training.  The  self-con- 
sciousness of  true  manhood  was  his,  as  well  as,  the  bub- 
bling buoyancy  of  youthful  hope  and  aspiration ;  justi- 
fiable pride  in  good  breeding  and  correct  manners ;  pro- 
found respect  for  things  esteemed  sacred ;  patient  appre- 
ciation of  the  rights  of  others,  which  always  prints  its 
seal  on  the  truly  noble  man ;  consideration  for  the  help- 
less and  weak,  with  whom  the  checkered  woof  of  life 
might  bring  him  in  contact ;  all  these  elements  of  force- 
ful character  were  exemplified  in  an  acquaintance  with. 


44  Joachim's  Daughter. 

this  handsome  being,  who  now  appeared  before  Joseph, 
who  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  gaze  earnestly  at 
the  new-comer. 

The  Jew  knew  him  to  be  a  stranger  and  an  alien  to 
the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  but  could  not  help  being 
impressed  with  the  clear  cut  face ;  the  broad,  high  fore- 
head, above  sparkling  eyes  of  liquid  blue;  the  nose, 
slightly  of  Roman  shape,  and  lips,  of  form,  that 
mothers  love  to  taste  in  fond  caress,  and  women  hang 
upon  as  nectar  from  the  gods.  The  hair,  a  glossy  amber, 
fell  in  waves  from  his  head,  which  was  protected  by  a 
light  helmet,  such  as  those  worn  by  the  Roman  cavalry. 
He  looked  like  those  whom  Joseph  had  heard  of,  as 
inhabitants  of  the  distant  isles  of  the  sea. 

The  face,  clean  shaven,  showed  the  chin  and  jaws 
firm  set  as  those  of  one  who,  gentle  as  the  summer  wind, 
yet  knew  his  rights  and,  knowing,  dared  maintain  them. 
A  toga  of  the  Roman  fashion  fell  in  graceful  folds  from 
his  left  shoulder  leaving  the  sword  arm  bare.  Beneath 
the  toga  a  silk  and  gold  embroidered  tunic  covered  his 
body.  Heavy  gold  bracelets  encircled  his  wrists  and  on 
the  left  arm  was  held  a  brightly  burnished  shield,  while 
from  a  metal  belt  hung  the  Roman  short  sword.  In 
color  the  toga  was  royal  purple  bound  in  gleaming 
white;  the  hose  were  bright  yellow,  with  sandals,  of 
most  exquisite  workmanship,  laced  above  the  ankles. 
The  broad  shoulders,  muscular  arms  and  firm  limbs 
gave  to  Joseph  the  impression  of  the  most  perfect  man 
he  had  ever  beheld. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  ABDUCTION. 

"A  soldier  of  the  Roman  legion,  thy  friend  greeteth 
thee,"  and  the  new  arrival  bowed  respectfully  before 
Joseph. 

"Thou  art  welcome.  Whatsoever  thy  servant  can 
command  is  at  thy  bidding.  Our  camp  is  broken.  I 
fear  thou  wilt  find  but  scant  entertainment." 

"I  refreshed  myself  as  we  traveled.  It  was  a  hard 
journey  from  Jerusalem  to  this  place  and  it  was  accom- 
plished in  a  brief  time.  A  little  provender,  good  sir, 
for  my  horse  would  be  acceptable."  With  this  request 
the  stranger  placed  his  hand,  in  an  affectionate  caress, 
on  the  neck  of  his  noble  animal. 

Joseph  at  once  turned  to  the  attendants  and  directed 
one  of  them  as  to  the  care  of  the  beast.  This  kindly 
office  performed  his  attention  was  once  more  given  to 
the  guest. 

"Thou  wilt  partake  of  some  food,  I  pray  thee." 

"Tell  me  first,  am  I  speaking  to  Joachim,  of  Jerusa- 
lem, or  canst  thou  tell  me  where  he  may  be  found?" 

"Joachim,  blessed  of  God,  and  friend  of  his  race,"' 
said  Joseph  devoutly,  "is  well  stricken  in  years.  With 
his  daughter  he  rests  in  yonder  tent,"  pointing  toward 
the  place. 

"I  am  intrusted  with  an  important  message  to  be 
delivered  to  his  own  hand,"  the  stranger  said.  "It 

45 


46  Joachim's  Daughter. 

concerns  his  personal  safety;  admits  of  no  delay;  and, 
requires  his  immediate  attention." 

There  was  something  about  the  last  remark  that  con- 
veyed a  command  to  Joseph;  and  which  impelled  him 
to  repare  at  once  to  the  tent,  followed  by  the  message 
bearer.  Indicating  that  he  would  inform  Joachim, 
Joseph  left  the  man  standing  without,  while  he  entered. 

Shortly  the  tent  door  was  drawn  aside  and  the 
stranger  bidden  to  enter.  Obeying  promptly,  he  stepped 
within,  his  feet  sinking  into  the  velvet  of  the  costly 
rug  placed  before  Joachim,  who  was  seated  immedi- 
ately in  front  of  the  entrance.  Mary  remained  near 
her  father. 

The  new-comer  removed  his  helmet  and  stood  uncov- 
ered before  the  Jewish  patriarch,  whom  he  saluted  with 
courtly  grace  and  demeanor,  giving  a  charm  to  the 
meeting  that  did  not  pass  unnoticed  by  Joseph,  who 
stood  in  such  a  position  as  to  observe  everything  occur- 
ring during  the  interview. 

The  eyes  of  the  visitor  wandered  from 
the  face  of  the  aged  man  before  him,  to  the  revelation 
of  loveliness  he  beheld  in  the  daughter.  An  expression 
of  surprise  and  pleasure  suffused  the  face  of  Joachim's 
guest.  At  the  same  time,  the  dark  fringed  eyelids  of 
the  maiden  drooped  in  sudden,  unexplainable  confu- 
sion, and  swiftly  the  rich  blood  mantled  her  cheek.  For 
some  reason,  equally  perplexing  and  obscure,  Joseph 
could  not  restrain  a  sigh,  as  he  was  irresi stably  com- 
pelled to  mentally  note  these  uninterpreted  manifesta- 
tions on  the  part  of  these  two  young  persons,  who  now 
saw  each  other  for  the  first  time. 

"My  son,"  were  the  first  words  that  greeted  the 
ears  of  the  soldier  as  he  returned  his  gaze  to  Joachim, 


The  Abduction.  47 

"thou  art  welcome.    Joseph  tells  me  thou  hast  a  mes- 
sage for  thy  servant,  Joachim." 

"Father,  venerable  sir,  I  have  been  charged  with  this 
message,  with  instructions  to  deliver  it  to  thee  in 
person." 

Placing  his  hand  in  his  girdle  he  drew  forth  a  papy- 
rus, folded  and  scented,  which  he  handed  to  Joachim. 

To  Mary  the  tones  of  this  man's  speech  held  a 
dreamy  harmony,  the  like  of  which  she  had  not  heard 
before.  She  had  not  ventured  to  look  again  into  the 
soldier's  face,  but  with  bowed  head  caught  herself  list- 
ening, intensely  interested,  to  the  melodious  vibration 
of  his  musical  utterance. 

The  patriarch  received  the  epistle,  opened  it, 
and  scrutinized  its  contents,  then  again  looked 
up  at  the  bearer,  closely  studying  the  face  of  his 
guest. 

"Caius  Panthera,  was  it  also  the  name  of  thy 
father?"  asked  Joachim. 

Again  the  clear  voice  broke  the  stillness  of  the  beau- 
tiful morning. 

"It  gives  me  pleasure  to  say,  I  bear  my  father's 
name,"  said  the  young  man,  warmly. 

"He  fell  at  Actium?" 

"Alas,  yes,"  said  Panthera,  sadly,  'and  the  East  lost 
its  dream  of  empire." 

"I  was  younger  then,"  replied  Joachim.  "I  knew  thy 
father  well.  A  brave,  true  man  he  was.  Thou  art  the 
very  image  of  his  person." 

"So  my  mother  bears  witness,"  and  Panthera  again 
bent  his  courtly  head. 

"Knowest  thou  the  contents  of  this  letter?"  Joachim 
asked. 


48  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Only  as  to  its  urgency,  and  that  it  was  to  be  placed 
in  thy  hands  with  all  dispatch." 

"How  long  since  thou  left  Jerusalem?" 

"Half  the  night  watches  were  past  before  thy  ser- 
vant started  upon  the  journey." 

"Thou  hast  made  most  excellent  time.  Joseph,  let 
thine  ear  hearken  to  the  message  of  our  friend  and 
handmaiden."  Joseph  started,  as  if  from  a  dream.  He, 
too,  had  been  an  attentive  listener  to  the  answers  of  the 
cultured  and  kindly  mannered  messenger,  who  now 
stepped  aside  as  if  to  leave  the  tent. 

"Hold,  my  son!"  exclaimed  Joachim,  "it  is  meet 
thou  shouldst  know  what  spurred  thee  on  thy  journey." 

"To  serve  the  one,  whose  message  I  bore,  was  suffi- 
cient," said  Panthera,  proudly. 

"Listen !  Thou  shalt  be  the  judge."  Thus  importuned 
the  messenger  lingered  within  the  tent.  Joachim  read : 

"In  the  night,  at  Jerusalem : — 

"  'Joachim,  well  beloved.  Peace  be  unto  thee :  By 
the  hand  of  Caius  Panthera,  a  trusted  friend,  I  send 
this  warning. 

"  'Thou  hast  been  accused  before  my  brother  who 
seeks  thy  life.  Jerusalem  is  stirred,  through  the  baser 
sort,  and  by  some  mysterious  influence  a  potent  spell 
hath  turned  men's  minds  against  thee.  This,  I  am 
afraid,  will  work  thee  ill  and  end  in  death.  Fly !  There 
is  safety  for  thee  only  in  Rome  and  by  the  grace  of  the 
ruler,  Augustus. 

"  Tare  thee  well.    Thine  in  bonds, 

SALOME/  ' 

"What  sayest  thou,  Panthera?     Peradventure  thou 


The  Abduction.  49 

art  the  friend  of  Herod?"  said  Joachim,  in  a  bewildered 
tone. 

A  resentful  flush  dyed  the  cheek  of  the 
soldier,  but  he  answered  with  gentle  dignity. 

"I,  I  am  the  friend  of  those  who  deal  justly,  love 
mercy,  and  honor  the  rights  of  men." 

"A  strange  sentiment  coming  from  a  soldier  of 
Rome.  Yet,  one  worthy  of  thy  sire.  Child !"  turning 
suddenly  with  a  look  of  concern,  as  he  thought  of 
Mary,  "Dost  thou  fear  the  Lord  hath  forsaken  thy 
father?" 

Mary  was  gazing  at  him  with  every  evidence  of  fear 
in  her  blanched  face.  Joachim  held  out  his  arms  and 
she  fairly  ran  to  his  embrace. 

"Child  of  my  soul !"  and  he  folded  her  close  to  his 
heart. 

"If  He  be  for  us,  who  may  be  against  us?  Trust 
him,  his  arm  is  not  shortened,  that  he  cannot  save.  His 
ear  is  not  closed,  that  he  heareth  not  the  cry  of  his 
people.  Hitherto,  hath  he  been  with  his  servant,  thy 
father,  all  the  days  of  his  life,  nor  will  he  forsake  him 
in  the  hour  of  death.  I  will  arise  and  go  to  Jerusalem. 
The  Lord  will  raise  up  friends  in  my  hour  of  need." 

"Amen !  The  mercy  of  the  Lord  sustain  thee  and 
thine,"  fervently  ejaculated  Joseph,  who  comprehended 
the  danger  threatening  his  beloved  friend  and  kinsman. 

Panthera.  the  soldier,  through  a  strange  premonition 
of  impending  danger,  threatening  his  new  found 
'acquaintances,  instinctively  felt  the  security  of  his 
shield,  and  placed  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  good  two- 
edged  Damascus  blade. 

Silence  fell  upon  the  group.  This  lasted  for  only  a 
moment,  but  during  that  time  Panthera  did  not  resist 
the  privilege  of  watching  the  beautiful  maid,  pillowed 


50  Joachim's  Daughter. 

on  the  breast  of  her  father.  Her  shapely  arms  were 
thrown  fondly  about  his  neck,  as  she  was  comforted  by 
his  whispered  consolation  of  faith. 

The  stillness  was  broken  by  the  cry  of  a  wounded 
animal ;  a  dispairing  wail  ending  in  a  moan  of  extreme, 
agonized  suffering.  It  was  the  cry  of  the  camel,  which, 
if  ever  heard,  can  never  be  forgotten.  Every  person  in 
the  tent  was  electrified  and  amazed  by  the  dire  and  mel- 
ancholy sound,  and  all  simultaneously  made  for  the 
outer  air.  Joseph  was  the  first  to  pass  out,  followed 
immediately  by  the  soldier. 

A  most  astonishing  scene  met  their  horrified  eyes. 
Three  strange  men  were  in  charge  of  the  baggage.  The 
servants  were  making  some  show  of  resistance,  but  in 
a  feeble  way.  The  burdened  camel  had  been  ham- 
strung with  one  of  the  cleaver  like  weapons  in  the 
hands  of  the  intruders. 

As  Joseph  and  Panthera  came  upon  the 
scene  one  of  the  servants  was  prostrated  with  a  blow 
on  the  head ;  the  other  was  dodging  those  aimed  at  him, 
•with  the  agility  of  a  monkey,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
calling  for  help  at  the  top  of  his  nasal  voice. 

The  Roman  comprehended  the  situation  instantly. 
There  was  no  doubt,  in  his  mind,  as  to  the  mission  of 
these  men.  Banditti,  bent  on  plunder,  with  little  or  no 
compunction  as  to  adding  murder  should  it  become 
expedient  or  necessary.  Springing  past  Joseph,  he  drew 
his  sword  and  bounded  toward  the  scene  of  strife. 

"Hold!"  he  commanded,  as  soon  as  near  enough  to 
be  heard.  This  surprised  the  men,  who  were  following 
the  servant,  and,  before  their  astonishment  subsided,  the 
sword  point  of  Panthera  had  pierced  the  neck  of  one  of 
the  marauders.  The  man  fell  to  the  ground  with  a 
groan,  but  his  companion,  quickly  recovering  himself, 


The  Abduction.  51 

* 

made  a  wicked  lunge  at  the  head  of  the  soldier,  which 
was  skillfully  warded  away  with  the  trusty  shield. 

The  combatants  faced  each  other  for  a  moment,  then 
the  assailant  rushed  madly  at  the  intrepid  young  man 
before  him,  as  though  to  bear  him  to  the  earth  by  the 
very  impetuosity  of  the  attack.  The  soldier  was  a 
master  in  defense  and,  although  his  opponent  was  a 
much  more  powerful  man,  it  was  evident,  from  the 
commencement,  that  the  skill  of  the  former  would  more 
than  equal  the  brute  force  of  the  latter.  Yet,  it  was 
a  dangerous  equality,  blow  succeeded  blow,  thrust  and 
cut  followed  each  other  in  rapid  succession. 

The  bewildered  servant  looked  on  in  amazement,  as 
did  Joseph,  except  that  the  latter  neared  the  scene 
of  the  fight,  and,  as  he  did  so,  the  intention  came  to  his 
mind  of  assisting,  if  possible,  the  generous  stranger 
who  was  thus  placing  his  life  in  peril. 

It  dawned  upon  the  bandit,  at  last,  that  there  was  no 
certainty  of  his  succeeding  with  pushing  the  battle. 
He  changed  his  tactics  to  cautious  maneuvers  and,  in 
this  manner,  became  a  more  dangerous  foe.  He  was 
twice  wounded  and  suffering1  from  loss  of 
blood.  This  goaded  him  to  renewed  vigilence  and  care. 
Realizing  the  danger  of  defeat,  he  cried  out  to  his  com- 
panion for  assistance. 

The  third  bandit  was  no  where  to  be  seen,  but  his 
struggling  companion  supposed  him  to  be  near  at  hand, 
perhaps  engaging  the  attention  of  the  meddlesome  ser- 
vants. The  soldier  now  changed  his  methods,  also, 
forcing  the  ruffian  to  fight,  in  turn,  on  the  defensive, 
pressing  his  adversary  back,  step  by  step.  At  the  same 
time  he  was  pleased  to  see  Joseph  coming  up  behind  the 
robber,  armed  with  a  large  sized  cudgel.  Panthera  now 
rushed  the  ruffian  back  to  still  more  engage  his  atten- 


52  Joachim's  Daughter. 

tion,  until  Joseph  might  administer  a  blow  that  would 
either  disarm,  or  place  him  at  such  a  disadvantage  as 
to  end  the  battle.  The  blow  descended,  with 
all  the  force  at  Joseph's  command,  across  the 
calf  of  the  robber's  leg,  tumbling  him  in  a  heap  upon 
the  ground. 

Before  the  soldier  could  have  dispatched  the  brute  at 
his  feet,  had  he  been  so  minded,  the  piercing  scream  of 
a  woman  broke  upon  his  hearing.  Both  he  and  Joseph 
started  in  consternation,  scarcely  able  to  tell,  from  the 
sound,  the  direction  from  whence  it  came.  For  an 
instant  they  waited  motionless.  Then  the  sound  of  a 
horse's  feet,  in  a  swift  gallop,  clattering  toward  the 
wilderness  road  was  heard. 

"My  master's  child  is  stolen!"  exclaimed  Joseph  in 
a  voice  of  dispair,  as  he  ran  toward  the  tent. 

The  bandit  lay  where  he  had  fallen,  too 
much  beaten  to  offer  further  menace  to  the  camp. 

"Help  me  with  my  horse!"  cried  Panthera  to  the 
servent  as,  sheathing  his  sword,  he  ran  toward  where 
the  animal  was  feeding. 

The  man  had  collected  his  wits  by  this  time  and  was 
the  willing  assistant  in  the  preparation  for  the  chase. 

Disrobing  himself  of  the  toga,  which  he  threw  to  the 
servant,  Caius  Panthera  adjusted  anew  the  shield  and 
pulled  his  sword  belt  a  trifle  tighter.  He  mounted, 
patted  the  animal  quietly  on  the  neck,  to  quell  the 
excitement  incident  to  the  hasty  manner  in  which  the 
high  strung,  nervous  creature  had  been  prepared  for 
the  race,  and  whirled  about  in  the  direction  of  the  echo- 
ing hoofs. 

His  erect,  secure  carriage  in  the  saddle  showed  him  to 
be  no  novice  in  horsemanship,  as  the  splendid  beast 


The  Abduction.  53 

sprang  forward.  The  roadway  reached,  Panthera  saw, 
considerably  in  advance,  the  dust  of  the  fugitive. 

"Steady,  Dion,  steady,  thou  hast  served  thy  master 
well.  Fail  not  now."  The  horse  seemed  to  understand 
and  answer  back  the  tones  of  his  master's  voice.  The 
muscles  grew  tense ;  the  veins  swelled,  till  their  network 
stood  out  over  the  entire  body,  as  the  Arabian  bred 
animal  sprang  away. 

Looking  ahead,  Panthera  saw  the  horseman  before 
him  with  a  burden  supported  on  one  arm.  The  soldier 
had  no  doubt  it  was  the  fainting  form  of  the  beautiful 
Jewish  maiden.  The  dust  rolled  from  between  pursuer 
and  pursued;  Panthera  distinguished  the  color  of  the 
maiden's  robe,  Joseph  had  divined  the  truth.  Joachim's 
daughter  had  been  stolen.  She  who  had  filled  the  mind 
and  charmed  the  soul  of  her  father's  guest,  as  he  beheld 
her,  but  a  short  time  before,  folded  in  the  arms  of  the 
patriarch. 

It  was  Melsach,  the  bandit  lieutenant  of  Solan  Hai, 
who  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  possession  of  the  maid, 
with  half  a  Jewish  mile  the  start  of  Panthera,  the 
Roman. 

Dion  shook  his  magnificent  head  impatiently  and 
chafed  the  bit.  Panthera  bent  over,  seeing  a  twisted 
strap  about  the  bridle,  he  slipped  a  buckle  into  place, 
for  a  second  losing  sight  of  the  object  of  his  chase, 
when  he  looked  up  both  horse  and  riders  had  disap- 
peared. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

The  Roman  bent  over  his  horse's  neck  and  urged  the 
faithful  animal  to  its  utmost  speed,  in  morti- 
fication and  chagrin  at  having  allowed  himself, 
to  lose  sight  of  the  ones  he  was  pursuing. 
It  occurred  to  him,  however,  that,  in  all  probability, 
the  bandit  had  turned  into  one  of  the  frequent  cross 
ways,  the  chances  were  in  favor  of  the  direction  toward 
the  mountains.  His  surmise  proved  to  be  correct,  as, 
on  arriving  at  where  a  narrow  crossroad  intersected  the 
main  thoroughfare,  Panthera  saw,  at  a  much  less  dis- 
tance than  he  had  expected,  the  daring  horseman  with 
his  precious  burden. 

Melsach  was  riding  at  a  moderate  pace  and  had,  in 
some  way,  succeeded  in  shifting  Mary  to  the  back  of 
the  saddle.  She  appeared  to  be  strapped  to 
the  conscienceless  scoundrel  and  could  have  seen  the 
soldier  following,  had  it  not  been  for  a  shawl  thrown 
over  her  head. 

Panthera  was  near  enough  to  observe  these  details 
with  distinctness.  He  judged  that  the  hands  of  the 
maid  were  secured  and  her  outcries  prevented  by  some 
means.  That  the  miscreant  had  premeditatedly  pre- 
pared himself,  for  the  expedition,  seemed  certain  from 
the  ease  with  which  he  had  managed  the  flight.  The 
horse  he  bestrode  was  cf  the  ancient,  noble  Arabian 

54 


A  Race  for  Life.  55 

race,  exceedingly  well  developed,  fine  limbs;  bony  and 
far  apart,  beautiful  head,  with  small,  pointed  ears,  the 
slick,  clean  body  a  mass  of  well  groomed  muscular 
fibre;  which  gave  the  animal  the  strength,  endur- 
ance and  fleetness  of  his  time  honored  progenitors.  An 
animal  very  similar  to  the  one  on  which  was  mounted 
the  Roman  soldier,  so  that  the  race,  for  the  life  and 
safety  of  the  maiden,  bade  fair  to  be  a  test  of  endurance 
between  the  magnificent  brutes. 

The  new  adjustment  of  his  burden  gave  the  fleeing 
wretch  free  use  of  his  arms  and  much  better  use  of  his 
body  and  limbs.  He  was  an  excellent  horseman,  and 
rode  as  though  he  had  been  born  in  the  saddle.  He 
had  slackened  his  headlong  pace  and  was  riding  at  an 
easy  canter,  apparently,  endeavoring  to  rest  and  give 
his  horse  the  breathing  spell  necessary  under  the  double 
load. 

Panthera  took  advantage  of  this  and  gained  rapidly. 
He  was  unobserved  until  the  sound  of  Dion's  hoofs 
roused  Melsach  from  his  fancied  security.  He  turned 
sharply  and  beheld  the  bright  uniform  of  the  Roman 
legionary  and  the  glitter  of  the  shield  held  at  his  side. 
Surprise  at  the  near  proximity  of  the  apparition  made 
the  bandit  lose  his  self  possession  and  he 
drove  his  spiked  heels  into  the  flank  of  the  horse.  The 
poor  creature,  unused  to  such  treatment,  reared  and 
then  stumbled,  giving  Melsach  a  trial  of  all  his  skill  in 
bringing  the  animal  under  control.  The  soldier  never 
wavered,  but  momentarily  gained  on  the  bandit. 

"Dion,  thott  art  swift,  swift  as  the  wind !"  he  cried. 
"Spare  not  thy  limbs,  my  good  Dion!"  and  he  patted 
the  arched  neck  with  caressing  hand. 

Again  Melsach  turned  in  the  saddle  to  look  and 
beheld  the  determination  in  the  face  of  his  foe. 


56  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Panthera  snatched  his  sword  from  its  scabbard,  and 
the  bright  weapon  scinctillated  in  the  rays  of  the  sun. 
This  movement  was  promptly  and  defiantly  answered 
by  Melsach,  who  drew  the  Arabian  shaped  scimiter  and, 
as  he  still  pushed  forward,  flourished  it  over  his  head  in 
true  eastern  bravado. 

Neither  again  sheathed  their  weapons,  but  held  them 
ready  for  use. 

The  way  was  gradually  becoming  more  of  an 
incline,  and  the  horse  in  advance  gave  signs  of  tiring 
under  the  strain  of  carrying  double.  He  was  dripping 
with  moisture  and  the  foam  flecked  sides  throbbed  with 
labored  breathing,  but  the  faithful  creature  still  bent 
willingly  to  the  task  and  needed  no  urging  from  his 
master. 

A  crisis  must  shortly  ensue,  the  horses  were  only  a 
few  lengths  apart,  each  galloping  madly  up  the  steep 
highway. 

Dropping  the  lines  upon  the  neck  of  his  sure  footed 
animal,  Melsach  quickly  unloosened  the  contrivance 
holding  the  maid  and  swung  her  lightly  over  his  arm. 
The  movement  turned  her  face  toward  the  soldier  and 
her  abundant  hair,  imconfined,  swept  downward,  reach- 
ing nearly  to  the  ground.  The  shawl  had  become  disen- 
gaged in  the  performance  of  this  feat  and,  placing  his 
scimiter  between  his  teeth,  Melsach  skillfully  gathered 
the  fluttering  folds  together  and,  with  a  dexterous 
whirl,  sent  the  garment  over  his  head,  so  that  it  fell 
almost  at  the  feet  of  the  oncoming  horse.  Panthera, 
on  the  alert,  anticipated  this  ruse  and  held  a  steady  rein 
on  Dion,  who  passed  the  bright  object  without  fear  or 
notice. 

The    soldier    was    now    within    speaking    distance. 

"Hold!"  he  thundered.    "Hold!    I  say." 


A  Race  for  Life.  57 

Mary  lay  across  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  helpless, 
and,  as  far  as  Panthera  could  judge,  unconscious;  the 
fair,  round  neck  uncovered,  resting  on  the  arm  of  Mel- 
sach.  He  drew  rein  as  this  peremptory  command 
reached  him. 

"Dost  thou  want  her  beautiful  head  to  fall?"  he 
answered,  at  the  same  time  drawing  his  murderous 
scimiter  frightfully  near  the  throat  of  his  motionless 
victim.  A  gag  had  been  cruellv  forced  into  her  mouth ; 

o     o  J 

this  farther  evidence  of  Melsach's  forethought  becoming 
evident  as  the  ruffian  turned  to  speak. 

The  soldier  shuddered  as  he  realized  the  dastardly 
cowardice  of  the  diabolical  threat.  Instinctively  he 
pulled  his  rein,  fearing  the  wretch  might  let  the  knife 
drop  on  the  delicate  flesh.  Speechless  horror  seized 
him  as  he  comprehended  the  dreadful  alternative 
offered.  Still  he  dared  not  hesitate.  Forward  he  must 
go.  Melsach'had  placed  a  few  paces  between  them, 
while  Panthera  hesitated. 

Pressing  his  knees  into  the  steaming  sides  of  his 

horse.  Dion's  master  once  more  leaned  forward.     He, 

dropped  the  rein  upon  the  horse's  neck.     With  a 

short,  sharp  dash  the  intervening  space  was  covered. 

Panthera  had  resolved  to  throw  himself  between  the 

and  the  knife,  rather  than  let  her  feel  its  cruel 

"Hold  thy  hand!"  he  shouted.  "Let  the  fight  be 
between  thee  and  me.  .Spare  her!  Let  it  be  my  life 

'line.     Let  us  finish  it  like  men." 
The  horses  were  walking  now,  side  by  side,  while 
Panthera  boldly  glared  into  the  maddened  face  of  his 
•onist.  who,  thus  appealed  to,  flourished  his  wea- 
pon in  a  wild,  devilish  manner,  gloating  over  his  advan- 
tage. 


58  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  A  snarling,  guttural  laugh 
was  his  only  reply. 

"Surely  thou  wouldst  not  stain  thy  soul  with  her 
innocent  blood !"  he  exclaimed,  desperately,  interposing 
his  shield  so  as  to  protect  the  threatened  neck. 

"No!  Ten  thousand  times  no!"  shouted  the  bandit. 

He  drew  his  horse  suddenly  to  one  side,  compelling 
Panthera  to  draw  back,  and  the  two  men  were  facing 
each  other. 

"I  possess  her  by  right !  Will  establish  it  by  might !" 
yelled  Melsach,  livid  from  rage.  "I  love  her.  She 
shall  know  and  worship  me,  she  shall  witness  the 
power  of  my  arm ;  she  shall  be  mine !  mine !  only  mine ! 
Thou  white  livered  dog,  shalt  thou  do  battle  for  thy 
life?  Thou  mayest  swear  by  the  mother  who  gave 
thee  birth !  Thou  wilt  never  pass  this  way  again 
Awake!  light  of  mine  eyes,  messenger  of  my  soul. 
Look  at  thy  lover,  who  dares  the  world  for  thee !" 

Loosening  the  gag  he  flung  it  in  the  face  of  Pan- 
thera, who  had  listened  in  horrified  silence  to  this 
unholy  outburst  of  inordinate  passion.  Seeing  the 
spellbound  attitude  of  the  soldier,  Melsach  again  began 
speaking. 

"My  love  shall  behold  the  battle !"  he  cried,  violently. 
"She  shall  be  the  wager.  She  shall  know  that  all  who 
come  between  us  shall  make  their  bed  in  dust ;  shall  sink 
to  the  lowest  hell.  Thou  mayest  pass  whence  thou 
came,  but  if  thou  follow  me  farther,  by  thine  own  gods, 
thou  hast  not  another  hour  to  live.  The  die  is  cast. 
Thou  mayest  fly — or  fight." 

Panthera  lifted  his  head  in  scornful  disdain  at  the 
alternative  offered  him. 

"I  will  fight."  He  said,  unspeakable  contempt  filling 
his  eyes  as  he  gazed  at  the  passion  swayed  ruffian. 


A  Race  for  Life.  59 

"Then  say  thy  prayers  and  follow  me." 

Without  more  ado  Melsach  turned  off  the  road  and 
cantered  along  a  by-path.  Panthera  followed  promptly. 
A  short  distance  was  traversed  and  the  horsemen  came 
into  a  level  amphitheater,  admirably  adapted  for  a 
duel. 

Melsach  untied  the  hands  of  Mary,  she  was  free, 
except  from  the  bonds  of  fear.  As  the  bands  slipped 
from  her  wrists,  consciousness  slowly  returned.  She 
looked  around  on  the  desolate  rocky  place,  in  a  weary 
dazed  sort  of  way,  until  her  eyes  took  in  the  form  of 
the  soldier,  who  was  restraining  his  horse,  as  the 
animal  impatiently  pawed  the  ground. 

"Where  am  I?"  Mary  questioned,  placing  her  hand 
to  her  head  in  a  distracted  way. 

"With  thy  lord/'  answered  the  ruffian  as  he  lifted 
her  from  the  saddle,  and  proceeded  to  carry  her  to 
where  a  pile  of  stone  and  rocks  offered  a  partial  shelter 
from  the  sun. 

She  sank  weakly  to  the  hard  seat  and  her  eyes 
wandered  in  search  of  the  form  that,  a  moment  ago,  had 
met  her  vision.  Gradually  memory  asserted  its  sway, 
and  the  distressed  daughter  of  Joachim  remembered 
every  detail  at  the  scene  of  the  abduction.  She  called 
to  mind,  clearly  and  vividly,  the  scimiter  as,  with  one 
stroke,  it  cleaved  the  back  of  the  tent  from  top  to 
bottom.  The  next  instant  a  stranger  had  entered  and, 
without  waiting,  grasped  her  in  his  arms.  Throwing 
a  shawl  over  her  head  he  had  half  dragged, 
half  carried  her  out  of  the  tent,  notwithstanding  her 
outcries  and  struggles. 

The  last  thing  she  had  seen,  as  the  shawl 
was  thrown  over  her  head,  was  the  horror  stricken 
countenance  of  her  aged  parent  as  he  attempted  to 


60  Joachim's  Daughter. 

interfere  in  her  behalf.  She  shut  her  eyes  and  moaned 
in  dispair  as  these  consecutive  thoughts  flashed  through 
her  mind  with  bewildering  rapidity  and  impressive 
force. 

"Where  am  I?"  she  again  muttered  to  herself  as  one 
recovering  from  a  hideous  nightmare.  She  raised  her 
head,  throbbing  with  pain,  and  looked  up,  only  to  have 
a  horror  of  darkness,  green  and  black,  float  before  her 
obscured  vision.  Still  she  did  not  wholly  lose  her 
senses.  Pressing  her  head  against  the  cool  rock,  she 
prayed  the  God  of  her  father  to  sustain  her.  Then  a 
bright  light  seemed  to  blaze  up  before  her.  Panthera, 
the  soldier,  was  speaking.  It  was  his  voice,  she  could 
not  be  mistaken,  those  clear,  cool  tones  she  would  never 
forget. 

"Melsach,  it  is  my  life,  or  thine.  I  accept  the  terms. 
Her  God  and  my  God  assist  me!"  . 

"Amen !"  involuntarily  the  maid  responded  to  the 
invocation. 

Slowly  the  frightened  eyes  of  Mary  centered  on  the 
two  men  who  were  now  before  her,  stationed  a  short 
distance  apart  on  the  level  green.  Everywhere  about 
were  the  cold  gray  rocks;  above,  only  the  blue  sky, 
like  a  great  vault,  enclosing  this  scene  of  impending 
conflict,  and  shutting  her  in  with  a  nameless  terror  and 
hopeless  dread  of  coming  disaster,  perhaps  death,  to 
Panthera,  who  now  was  willing  to  risk,  perchance  sur- 
render, his  life  in  her  behalf.  Her  vision  cleared  and 
her  mind  became  concentrated  on  the  opponents.  Like 
the  charmed  bird,  she  was  fascinated,  chained  to  the 
spot,  unable  to  move  had  she  so  desided. 

She  contemplated  the  form  and  bearing  of  her  self- 
appointed  defender. 

The  soldier  was  clad  in  the  close  fitting  Roman  tunic 


A  Race  for  Life.  61 

which  displayed,  his  well  made,  muscular  body,  and  the 
length  and  symmetry  of  his  limbs  and  arms,  the  latter 
bare  and  only  concealed  by  the  shield. 

Across  the  breast  was  a  curiously  interwoven  net- 
work of  silver  chains,  burnished  to  a  marvel  of  bright- 
ness, that  glittered  at  every  movement  of  the  graceful 
body.  The  tunic  was  otherwise  trimmed  with  fine  gold 
lace  in  circular  design — a  costly  apparel  in  the  most 
elegant  and  perfect  taste. 

A  shout,  from  the  bandit,  broke  discordantly  upon 
this  momentary  pause.  He  rode  to  the  far  side  of  the 
arena  and  turning  sharply,  faced  his  adversary.  The 
next  instant  the  two  horses  were  approaching  each  other 
at  a  mad  gallop.  Two  men,  with  set  features  and  drawn 
weapons,  were  bending  over  their  horses'  necks  as  if  to 
precipitate  the  dread  encounter,  impatient,  apparently, 
of  even  the  unusual  velocity  of  their  animals. 

Melsach  had  divested  himself  of  every  vestage  of 
.clothing  that  could  have  impeded,  or  hindered,  the  free 
use  of  his  scimiter,  which  he  whirled  over  his  head. 
His  dark  features  and  flashing  eyes  were  alive  with  the 
maddened  passion  seething  within  his  pitiless  breast. 
With  a  torrent  of  eastern  invectives,  launched  at  his 
antagonist,  he  goaded  his  willing  animal  to  the  fray. 
His  massive  form  was  convulsed  with  energy  and  des- 
peration, the  great  veins  swollen  in  his  neck,  and  the 
cords  of  his  body,  limbs  and  arms  at  the  utmost  tension 
of  excitement. 

On!  On!  they  rushed.  To  Mary  it  seemed  that  no 
power  on  earth  could  stay  the  terrible  onslaught. 

Crash,  came  the  two  horses  together.  Slash,  cut, 
thrust,  the  ring  of  steel,  and  the  two  men,  side  by  side, 
their  horses  flank  to  flank,  fought,  pushed,  crowded 


62  Joachim's  Daughter. 

and  struck  until  the  horses,  by  their  desperate  plung- 
ing, separated  the  riders,  and  the  combatants  once 
more  guided  their  animals  to  opposite  sides  of  the 
natural  arena. 

The  maiden  closed  her  eyes  to  the  awful  sight.  The 
clash  of  arms  and  the  din  of  fight  rang  in  her  affrighted 
ears.  He  must  not,  shall  not  fall.  In  her  desperate 
strait,  Mary  fell  upon  her  knees  and  cried  out  to  the 
God  of  Israel  to  stay  the  hand  of  Melsach. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  HORSEBACK  DUEL. 

The  furious  bandit  became  surprisedly  aware  that 
he  had  met  his  equal  in  fight  and  endurance; to  vanquish 
his  formidable  antagonist  would  tax  his  utmost  skill 
and  strength.  He  had  felt  the  power  and  dexterity  of 
the  arm  wielding  the  sword,  and  he  was  sensibly 
admonished  of  the  danger  that  might  ensue  from  any 
over  confidence,  or  carelessness,  on  his  part. 

There  was  no  time  to  waste  or  wait.  Once  more  the 
men  faced  each  other.  The  presence  of  the  silent  wit- 
ness, while  not  forgotten,  was  certainly  ignored  in  the 
attending  excitement. 

Again,  the  combatants  advanced,  each  with  more 
caution,  but  nevertheless,  with  the  same  terrific  impe- 
tuosity. The  animals,  frenzied  by  the  battle,  acted 
much  like  human  beings  in  the  manner  of  their  fiend- 
like  onslaught.  Rearing  to  an  attitude  almost  erect, 
they  fell  upon  each  other  in  hostile  fury,  striking  with 
their  sharp  hoofs,  kicking  and  biting  savagely. 

Again  the  cut,  slash  and  thrust,  of  the  men,  waged 
deadly  conflict ;  again  the  warlike  ring  of  steel  against 
steel ;  again  they  wheeled,  crowded,  rushed  and  turned 
in  desperate  effort  to  obtain  advantage,  or  inflict  mortal 
injury. 

Mary,  with  difficulty,  restrained  an  overwhelming 
desire,  which  seized  her,  to  throw  herself  between  the 

63 


64  Joachim's  Daughter. 

plunging  horses;  to  end,  at  any  hazard,  the  frightful 
struggle  that  numbed  her  young  heart  and  horrified  her 
timid  soul. 

This  encounter,  taking  place  before  the  tenderly 
reared  maiden  of  culture  and  refinement,  whose  sensi- 
bilities were  not  only  shocked,  but  outraged,  as  well, 
must,  in  the  nature  of  things,  have  left  an  indelible 
impression  on  her  youthful  memory. 

She  had  been  seized  by  a  dastardly  ruffian,  whom  she 
had  never  looked  upon  before,  snatched  from  the  shel- 
tering protection  of  the  loving  father,  who  had  hitherto 
been  a  refuge  in  every  storm,  a  tower  of  strength  in 
every  difficulty,  and  placed  in  this  alarming  situation, 
compelled  to  witness  a  combat  between  two  men,  and 
that  unto  the  death. 

She  had  not  heard  the  wild  challenge  of  Melsach ;  did 
not  know  that  the  splendid  Roman  fought  to  defeat  the 
outrage  commenced  by  Solan  Hai's  friend,  which 
would  end,  were  the  bandit  victorious,  in  infamy  and 
shame — worse  than  death,  the  extent  of  which  her 
youth  and  innocence  could  scarcely  comprehend,  yet,  a 
faint  realization  of  the  possibility  of  separation,  from 
home  and  kindred,  stole  into  her  bewildered  senses;  a 
dread  uf  dire  calamity,  dark  as  the  blackness  of  night. 

There  came  over  her  spirit  a  longing  that  rather 
than  submit  to  be  thus  lost  to  her  own,  she  might  have 
granted  to  her  another  alternative,  and  be  mercifully 
permitted  even  to  die  and  depart  to  that  better  life, 
where  experiences,  such  as  this,  could  not  come. 

Mary  shivered  as  if  she  had  stepped  on  some  loath- 
some reptile ;  yet  her  eyes  were  burning  in  their  sockets, 
and  her  head  felt  as  though  it  might  burst ;  the  taper- 
ing fingers  were  clinched,  the  nails  embedding  them- 
selves in  the  palms  of  her  hands;  she  felt  the  peculiar 


The  Horseback  Duel.  65 

sensation  of  each  particular  hair  seeming  to  stand  out 
and  apart  from  every  other;  her  throat  was  parched 
and  her  tongue  cleaved  to  her  mouth.  She  was  unable  to 
articulate  or  cry  out. 

"Was  there  no  deliverance?  Was  there  no  hand  to 
save?" 

Crash !  A  blow  descended  upon  the  head  of  the 
soldier,  his  helmet  fell,  shattered.  At  the  same  moment, 
his  sword  inflicted  an  ugly  wound  upon  the  body  of  his 
opponent,  from  which  the  blood  flowed,  discoloring  the 
whiteness  of  the  animal  so  valiently  assisting  in  the 
unholy  undertaking. 

The  excited  horses  rushed  madly  at  each  other;  the 
one  under  Panthera,  in  a  fury,  buried  his  teeth  into 
the  neck  of  the  other  and  held  on  like  a  vicious  dog. 
Exasperated  at  this,  Melsach,  before  the  soldier  could 
hinder  or  avert  the  impending  stroke,  brought  the 
heavy  blade  of  his  scimiter,  with  deadly  force,  across 
the  neck  of  the  unfortunate  Dion.  The  blow  severed 
the  artery  and  the  blood  forced  its  way  from  the  wound 
with  such  velocity  as  to  drench  the  treacherous  robber ; 
the  hot,  spurting  fluid  striking  him  full  in  the  face 
and  blinding  him.  Dion  had  relaxed  his  vicious  hold, 
but  before  Panthera  could  follow  up  the  advantage, 
given  him  by  the  momentary  confusion  of  the  bandit, 
and  finish  the  struggle,  Melsach's  horse  became  unman- 
ageable and  carried  his  rider  to  the  extreme  end  of  the 
arena. 

Dion  made  no  sound  or  indication  of  suffering;  for 
a  brief  time  the  beautiful  creature  stood  as  if  dazed,  then 
plunging  a  short  distance  forward,  fell  heavily,  the 
knees  first  striking  the  earth ;  then,  partly  falling,  partly 
rolling,  he  dropped  on  the  hard  ground.  Panthera, 


66  Joachim's  Daughter. 

quickly  extricating  his  feet  from  the  stirrups,  sprang 
from  the  saddle  barely  in  time  to  escape  being  crushed. 

"My  poor  horse!"  he  exclaimed.  "Fare  thee  well! 
My  noble  Dion!"  and  in  his  grief  at  the  loss  of  this, 
almost  human  companion  he  for  once  forgot  the  strife, 
forgot  that  his  foe  threatened. 

The  animal  at  his  feet,  raised  his  head,  with  a  last 
effort,  and  turned  a  look  of  affectionate  pleading 
toward  the  master  from  whose  hand  there  had  never 
been  aught  but  kindness  and  gentle  treatment.  The 
film  of  death  gathered  across  the  velvet  eyes,  and  the 
head  sank  back  to  the  sward.  Panthera  could  not 
longer  look  upon  the  death  scene,  could  not  bear  to 
behold  the  life-blood  welling  from  the  gaping  wound. 
He  turned  away  from  the  last  struggle.  In  this  atti- 
tude he  listened  to  one  vain  effort  of  Dion,  as  he 
attempted  to  rise,  a  short  convulsive  struggle,  a  scrap- 
ing of  feet  along  the  ground  and  a  fall — it  was  ended. 

It  was  no  time  to  indulge  his  sorrow,  imminent 
danger  threatened  his  own  life,  for  Panthera  beheld  his 
foe  in  the  act  of  returning  with  drawn  sword  and  bared 
head. 

With  his  old  and  tried  friend  dead  at  his  feet,  for 
a  breast  work,  the  soldier  stood  facing  his  mortal 
enemy.  There  could  be  no  mistake.  The  bandit  would 
attempt  to  ride  him  down,  leap  over  him,  or,  passing 
closely  by,  cleave  his  almost  defenseless  head.  The 
soldier  realized  the  desperate  disadvantage  under 
which  he  was  placed,  but  resolved  to  sell  his  life  at  the 
highest  price.  Standing  behind  his  only  available  ram- 
part, firmly  bracing  himself  for  a  determined  defense, 
he  resolved  to  do  battle  to  the  last,  in  the  forlorn  hope 
that  in  some  manner,  by  some  lucky  chance,  a  way 
might  open  for  his  escape,  and  the  rescue  of  Mary.  It 


The  Horseback  Duel.  67 

would  be  vain  to  think,  useless  to  ask,  or,  even  sue  for 
quarter.  It  must  be  his  life  or  that  of  the  bandit. 
There  could  be  no  compromise. 

The  thundering  click  of  galloping  feet  once  more 
resounded  on  the  hard  earth.  Faster,  faster;  nearer, 
nearer,  it  came. 

A  glance  to  the  side,  a  fluttering  object  was 
approaching.  Panthera  dared  not  turn,  still  he  felt  a 
new  presence  near  the  spot  where  soon  the  fight  must 
be  renewed. 

"Merciful  Heaven!"  breathed  Panthera. 

It  was  the  maiden,  rushing  toward  him,  as  swiftly 
as  her  limbs  could  transport  her.  Hair  streaming, 
arms  extended.  On,  on  she  came.  Her  face  was 
partially  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  oncoming  horse- 
man with  a  staring  look  of  fear  and  horror.  She  threw 
herself  boldly  in  front  of  the  advancing  charger, 
scarcely  a  length  away.  With  a  wail  of  anguish  and 
fright  she  sank  upon  her  knees,  her  arms  thrown 
upward  in  an  attitude  of  supplication. 

"Across  my  body!"  rang  out  in  an  unearthly,  des- 
pairing scream. 

The  rash  movement  of  the  maid  caused  the  horse  to 
take  fright,  and  he  bolted  with  such  force  as  to  throw 
the  bandit.  Melsach  was  taken  entirely  unawares,  and 
was  able  to  extricate  but  one  of  his  feet  from  the  stir- 
rups, the  other  held  him  fast,  and  threw  his  ponderous 
body  against  the  feet  of  the  frenzied  animal.  The 
unfortunate  man  made  vain  efforts  to  recover  himself, 
but  was  carried  toward  the  mountain  road,  every  bound 
dashing  his  body  violently  against  the  rocks  by  the 
way. 

Mary  had  fallen  forward  in  a  swoon.  Panthera 
realized  the  situation,  the  fate  of  the  bandit  and  the 


68  Joachim's  Daughter. 

marvelous  good  fortune  which  worked  his  deliverance, 
and  the  preservation  of  them  both — she  from  shame 
and  he  from  death. 

Leaping  over  the  body  of  Dion,  he  sprang  to  the 
assistance  of  the  damsel.  Gently  lifting  her  in  his  arms, 
he  carried  her,  as  though  she  were  a  child,  to  the  shady 
side  of  a  sheltering  rock.  Here  he  placed  her  as  com- 
fortably as  possible  under  the  circumstances.  Alarmed 
at  the  deathly  nature  of  the  swoon,  he  was  about  to 
look  for  the  wine  bottle,  which  he  might  find  in  the 
trappings  of  the  murdered  horse,  when,  glancing  at 
the  maid,  he  saw  the  lovely  eyes  slowly  opening. 

Pleased  at  the  evidence  of  returning  consciousness, 
Panthera  bent  over  and  gazed  into  her  face, 
but  her  eyes  immediately  closed  again  and  she  did  not 
seem  to  hear  his  quick  spoken  assurance  of  their  safety. 
Gradually  the  color  returned  to  the  fair  face,  relieving 
Panthera  of  his  alarm  and  apprehension  as  to  serious 
results  to  her  from  this  adventure. 

The  soldier  waited  patiently  at  Mary's  side.  A  sudden 
movement  of  returning  energy  threw  the  arms  of  the 
maid  upward  over  her  head  and,  but  for  the  intervening 
hand  of  Panthera,  the  soft  flesh  would  have  been  bruised 
against  the  jagged  rock.  An  instant  more  and  the 
damsel  was  looking  fully  and  sensibly  into  the  face  of 
her  attendant. 

"Art  thou  better?"  inquired  Panthera. 

"My  father,  take  me  to  him."  Memory  asserted 
its  sway,  a  look  of  utter  horror  shot  across  her  features 
and  she  raised  herself  from  the  hard  rock.  "What  has 
happened  ?"  she  questioned.  "Where — " 

"Thou  art  safe,  dear  lady.  Thou  need'st  have  no 
fear,"  answered  Panthera,  and  he  waited  respectfully, 
ready  to  anticipate  her  slightest  wish. 


The  Horseback  Duel.  69 

Her  face  was  yet  sickeled  over  with  the  pallor  of 
extreme  weariness  and  fright.  Yet  the  Roman  had 
never  looked  upon  a  more  beautiful  countenance. 

"Thou  art  Caius  Panthera?"  she  asked  at  length. 

"Yes,  dear  lady." 

"Where  is  the  other  — " 

"He  will  trouble  thee  no  more,"  was  the  quiet 
answer. 

The  dread  visible  in  her  face  and  attitude  revealed 
the  fear  passing  through  her  mind  and  Panthera 
hastened  to  reassure  her. 

"The  unfortunate  man  was  thrown  from  his  horse. 
The  animal  ran  away  dragging  his  master." 

Mary  put  her  hands  over  her  eyes,  as  though  to  shut 
away  the  mental  picture  that  came  to  her. 

"How  terrible!"  She  shuddered,  then  with  a  swift 
glance  of  gratitude.  "Oh !  thou  art  my  deliverer." 

"The  credit  must  be  to  thyself,  rather  art  thou  the 
savior,  deliverer  of  us  both." 

"I — Oh  no!"  and  the  maiden  could  not  find  words 
with  which  to  continue.  Yet  she  could  not  allow 
modesty  on  his  part  to  give  the  credit  to  her. 

"Thou  knowest  I  am  the  daughter  of  Joachim,  and 
that  my  father  is — "  and  again  she  paused  in  confusion, 
encountering  the  eyes  of  Panthera. 

"Is  among  the  best  and  noblest  of  thy  countrymen," 
added  he  assisting  her,  "and  thou  art  his  only  daughter, 
perchance.  Wilt  thou  tell  me  thy  name?" 

"Mary,  is  my  name,"  she  replied,  frankly. 

Panthera  rose  to  his  feet,  the  problem  of  returning 
the  confiding  child  to  her  people  was  troubling  him. 

"Thou  art  blessed  with  the  dearest  name  that  is  given 
to  thy  sex,"  he  said. 

"Must  we  stay  here  long?"  asked  Mary,  looking  up 


70  Joachim's  Daughter. 

at  her  companion.  "Wilt  thou  return  with  me  to  my 
father?" 

"Let  not  thy  heart  be  troubled.  Thou  shalt  wait  not 
a  moment  longer  than  when  thou  mayest  be  strong 
enough  to  attempt  the  journey." 

"I  am  strong  enough  now.  We  must  not  delay." 
The  brave  little  maid  would  have  started  to  her  feet, 
but  the  effort  discovered  her  weakness.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  prompt  support  of  this  stranger  she  must 
have  fallen.  She  slipped  down  on  the  rocks  again,  a 
discouraged  expression  slowly  darkening  her  eyes. 

"Thou  must  know  that  we  are  far  from  the  camp  of 
thy  father,"  Panthera  gently  said.  He  had  it  in  his 
mind  that  they  would  have  to  walk  back.  "It  is  fully 
a  day's  journey." 

"So  far,"  she  cried  in  dismay,  "but,  Joseph  will  come 
after  me.  He  is  the  kinsman  of  my  father." 

"Very  likely  so,"  replied  Panthera.  "We  must  reach 
the  mountain  road  lest  he  pass  us  by  and  continue  on 
the  straight  way." 

"The  mountain  road,"  repeated  Mary,  incredulously. 

"Did'st  thou  not  know?  Wert  thou  unconscious  all 
the  way?" 

"I  knew  I  was  going,  going,  and  thought  the  journey 
would  never  end.  I  do  'not  think  I  was  entirely 
unconscious  all  the  time.  I  heard  thy  voice  when  thou 
did'st  overtake  the  man.  What  was  the  ugly  name  he 
called  himself?  After  that  everything  was  blackness 
until  I  recovered  during  that  terrible  struggle.  How 
shall  I  ever  recompense  thee?"  she  exclaimed,  excitedly. 
"I  cannot  thank  thee.  My  father  shall  reward  thee." 

"Hush !"  he  said,  wishing  to  turn  her  mind  from  her 
frightful  experience.  "We  will  have  to  make  the 


The  Horseback  Duel.  71 

journey  on  foot.  Thou  knowest  that  my  horse  was 
killed." 

"Alas,  yes !"  she  answered. 

"Thou  art  scarcely  able  to  stand,"  he  said.  "If  thou 
would'st  rest  here,  I  might  attempt  to  find  the  other 
animal.  He  may  not  have  gone  far,  dragging  so  heavy 
a  weight." 

"Do  not  leave  me,"  cried  Mary,  alarmed.  "Where 
ever  thou  goest  I  will  go.  I  am  stronger  than  thou 
thinkest."  She  arose  determinedly,  and  prepared  to 
accompany  him.  Accepting  the  support  of  his  arm,  she 
boldly  and  firmly  stepped  out  toward  the  mountain 
road. 

Panthera,  mentally  ill  at  ease,x  saw  the  tracks  of  the 
runaway  horse,  and  feeling  the  frail  hold  on  his  arm, 
hoped  against  hope  that  the  means  of  conveying  the 
damsel  down  the  mountain  might  be  near  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BACK  TO  THE  CAMP. 

Never,  in  all  the  remembrance  of  the  young  man,  had 
he  experienced  so  complete  a  satisfaction  as  permeated 
his  being  on  that  cloudless  morning  while  walking 
toward  the  highway.  He  had  not  calculated,  or 
anticipated,  that  this  stage  of  the  journey  would  be 
so  long. 

He  had  followed  Melsach,  into  the  arena,  under  the 
stimulating  influence  of  the  undertaking  then  confront- 
ing him,  and  the  pathway  had  been  covered  without 
heed  to  its  length.  Therefore,  he  was  much  surprised  at 
the  time  consumed  in  traversing  the  bridle  path  before 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  way  leading  down  from  the 
hills. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  excusable,  natural  concern 
and  urgency,  which  Mary  could  not  refrain  from 
expressing,  Panthera  would  have  been  content  to  linger 
much  longer  on  the  way,  so  sweet  and  interesting  was 
the  conversation  with  the  maiden  walking  at  his  side. 

Nervously  and  anxiously  he  watched  ahead,  fearing, 
at  every  turn,  to  discover  the  lifeless  body  of  the  bandit, 
which,  without  doubt,  would  be  found  somewhere  as 
they  advanced.  They  observed,  at  intervals,  evidence  of 
the  direction  taken  by  the  affrighted  horse  and  his  luck- 
less rider ;  portions  of  the  accoutrements  of  the  animal, 
as  well  as,  shreds  of  the  clothing  worn  by  Melsach. 

72 


Back  to  the  Camp.  73 

Before  starting  Panthera  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
secure  the  scimiter,  found  near  the  spot  where  Mary's 
tragic  interference  had  decided  the  fate  of  herself  and 
her  guide;  that  there  might  be  no  mistake,  he  carried 
this  with  him,  that  if,  by  any  chance,  the  ruffian  should 
have  escaped  death,  there  would  be  no  possibility  of 
rearming  himself. 

At  length  the  trained  eye  of  the  soldier  discerned  an 
object,  the  nature  of  which  could  admit  of  no  doubt. 
Moving  quickly,  he  walked  with  Mary  some  distance 
from  the  pathway,  requesting  her  to  rest,  while  he  went 
forward.  With  an  inquiring  glance  she  searched  his 
face,  the  truth  flashed  into  her  mind,  the  horror  of  it 
almost  overpowering  her  sorely  tried  strength.  With 
an  effort  she  signified  her  willingness  to  Vvvait  his 
return. 

"How  kind  and  considerate  thou  art  in  every  thing !" 
she  murmured,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears  of  gratitude. 

"Rest,"  he  replied,  "I  will  be  absent  but  a  short 
time." 

He  could  not  refrain  from  giving  expression, 
through  his  eyes,  of  the  pleasure  he  derived  from  the 
words  of  appreciation,  falling  so  unaffectedly  from  her 
lips.  It  was  not  the  impudent  stare  of  inordinate 
admiration,  but,  rather  the  fraternal  greeting  reaching 
out  from  a  soul  void  of  offense,  which,  by  reason  of  its 
manly  purity,  commands  confidence  and  trust. 

Until  he  passed  from  her  range  of  vision,  Mary's 
gaze  followed  the  retreating  form  of  Panthera.  A 
sigh  escaped  her,  as  a  bend  in  the  pathway  hid  him 
from  view.  A  realization  of  her  utter  dependency  upon 
this  stranger  came  over  her  spirit ;  this  was  followed  by 
a  feeling  of  despondency  and  despair,  as  the  interval 
marking  his  absence  lengthened. 


74  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Panthera,  indeed,  was  long  at  his  task.  To  remove  and 
conceal  the  shapeless  thing,  that  blotted  the  fair  beauty 
of  the  landscape,  required  time,  and  he  did  not  choose  to 
leave  a  trace  of  the  tragedy  to  further  shock  his  precious 
charge. 

In  the  meanwhile,  suspense  and  overwhelming  doubt 
surged  through  the  mind  of  Joachim's  daughter,  with  a 
fear  of  impending  evil  that  she  attributed  to  the  dis- 
tressing experiences  through  which  she  had  been  com- 
pelled to  pass.  Notwithstanding  this  course  of  reason- 
ing, the  uncannyness  deepened  into  gloom,  impossible  to 
master  or  throw  off,  until  she  sprang  up,  from  where 
she  had  reclined,  and,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul, 
would  have  screamed,  the  hysterical  spasm  so  held  her 
within  its  grasp,  had  it  not  been  that  in  looking  toward 
the  spot  where  her  protector  had  disappeared  from  view 
she  beheld  him  returning. 

He  was  light  and  brightness  to  her;  his  presence 
dispelled  her  dark  forbodings;  from  his  cheerful  face 
beamed  the  light  of  hope,  strength  and  consolation. 
Only  for  the  restraining  influence  of  the  natural  sense 
of  modesty,  and  a  deference  to  propriety,  she  would 
have  manifested  her  joy  by  running  to  meet  him.  As 
it  was  she  waited,  in  strange  agitation,  which  increased 
as  he  approached.  She  sank  back  to  the  rocky  seat, 
trying  in  vain  to  compose  herself,  half  ashamed  of  the 
emotion  that  could  not  fail  of  attracting  his  notice. 

"Thou  art  tired,  child.  This  hath  been  a  day  of  severe 
trial  to  thee."  Panthera  said,  compassionately,  as  he 
looked  into  her  perturbed  face. 

Mary  could  not  control  her  voice,  she  attempted  to 
rise,  but,  in  spite  of  her  strongest  exertions  to  maintain 
a  show  of  strength,  staggered  and  must  have  fallen 


Back  to  the  Camp.  75 

but  for  the  watchfulness  of  Panthera  whose  strong  arm 
again  supported  her  trembling  form. 

She  was  not  only  tired,  but  exhausted,  and  she  looked 
appealingly  toward  the  soldier. 

"Do  not  exert  thyself.  Save  thy  strength  and  courage. 
We  must  reach  the  mountain  road.  Trust  thyself  to 
thy  servant." 

"I  do!  I  do!"  she  answered.  The  next  instant  his 
strong  arms  lifted  her  from  the  ground  and  carried  her 
away  from  the  place. 

As  though  she  had  been  a  child,  Panthera  bore  the 
weight  of  the  exquisite  maiden.  There  was  no  other 
way,  and  Mary  submitted  to  the  arrangement  with  a 
restful  sense  of  security  calming  her  anxious  mind, 
Her  head  drooped,  in  delightful  languor,  and  she  eased 
the  soldier's  load  by  the  support  of  her  own  arm, 
thrown  over  his  shoulder. 

The  undulating  motion  in  the  movements  of  the 
soldier  conveyed  to  Mary  the  long-ago  lullaby  of  her 
Israelitish  mother. 

The  unstrung  nerves  of  the  maid  were  soothed,  her 
eyelids  closed,  sleep — nature's  best  restorer — gradually 
overcame  her  every  resistance  and  the  shapely  head 
sank  against  the  neck  of  Panthera,  who,  at  that 
moment,  would  have  dared  ten  thousand  dangers,  and 
thanked  the  gods  for  the  opportunity  and  privilege,  if 
it  could  have  been  in  her  behalf. 

The  touch  of  the  warm  body  of  this  defenseless, 
confiding  girl,  the  faint  scent  of  the  perfumed  ointment, 
from  her  glossy  locks,  the  form,  the  features,  all  served 
to  send  the  blood  pulsing  through  his  veins  with  the 
strength,  energy  and  mystery  of  love.  She  was  safe  in 
his  arms.  His  heart  and  his  honor  were  pledged  to  her 
service.  No  sacrifice  could  be  required  that  this  man 


76  Joachim's  Daughter. 

was  not  ready  to  render  cheerfully  that  he  might  merit 
the  favor  of  the  one  resting  trustfully  on  his  breast, 
fondly,  yet  gently  and  respectfully  folded  in  his  arms. 

The  night  before,  girl-like,  Mary  had  spent  awake, 
anticipating  the  return  journey  to  her  home  in  Jerusa- 
lem. She  had  arisen,  long  before  the  sun,  and  prepared 
her  belongings,  so  that  everything  might  be  in  readi- 
ness. The  rude  shock  to  these  pleasant  anticipations: 
the  harsh  interruption  at  the  moment  of  departure  for 
the  home  of  her  youth;  the  impetuous,  compulsory 
flight  on  horseback,  the  strain  of  which  was  almost 
unbearable ;  the  furious  combat,  all  worked  together  to 
completely  tire  the  maid,  and  as  her  bearer  covered 
the  road  with  lengthy  strides  she  fell  deeper  and  deeper 
into  a  trance-like  sleep. 

The  soldier  gained  the  mountain  way  without  mishap 
or  accident.  From  his  new  vantage  ground  he  looked 
toward  the  way  he  had  recently  traveled,  but  saw 
nothing  that  gave  encouragement.  No  succor  was  at 
hand.  He  had  hoped  to  find  some  sort  of  conveyance 
that  might  be  secured  to  carry  the  maid  back  to  her 
people;  instead,  only  the  oppressive,  solitary  grandeur 
of  the  deserted  way  greeted  him.  The  road  stretched 
away  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

Considering  the  headlong  pace  of  the  pursuit  up  the 
mountain,  and  reckoning  the  time  thus  spent,  Panthera 
knew  that  a  tedious  journey  lay  before  him.  With  the 
girl  in  her  present  condition  the  problem  resolved  its- 
self  into  an  impossibility.  Even  were  she  able  to  walk, 
there  was  a  grave  question  as  to  whether  they  could 
reach  the  camp  before  nightfall. 

Stepping  to  the  middle  of  the  roadway,  Panthera 
gazed  with  straining  eyes  over  the  downward  road. 
His  predicament  was  becoming  serious.  Since  the 


Back  to  the  Camp.  77 

early  dawn  he  had  not  broken  his  fast,  save  in  the 
most  meager  manner,  having  partaken  only  of  the  wine 
and  biscuits,  thoughtfully  placed  in  his  saddle  bag  by 
Salome.  However,  he  determined  to  make  the  best  of 
his  way  down  the  road  until  compelled  to  give  over 
this  self  imposed  duty. 

Glancing  in  the  other  direction  through  the  scant  foli- 
age of  a  clump  of  bushes,  not  yet  in  full  leaf,  he  beheld 
the  horse,  recently  in  the  possession  of  Melsach,  quietly 
grazing  at  the  roadside. 

Softly  depositing  his  burden  on  the  grass,  trusting 
that  the  grateful  slumber  would  hold  her  in  its  embrace, 
Panthera  determined  to  secure  the  animal.  In  this 
expedient  lay  the  only  method  of  extracting  himself 
from  the  dilemma  in  which  he  was  involved.  To  carry 
the  girl  down  the  mountain  road  was  an  undertaking 
quite  out  of  the  question;  as  to  her  attempting  the 
journey  on  foot,  it  was  equally  impracticable;  and  the 
probability  of  a  conveyance,  going  down  the  mountain, 
was  too  remote  for  consideration. 

The  animal  had  stripped  himself  of  every  vestige  of 
trappings.  Panthera  remembered  that  Dion  was  com- 
pletely caparisoned.  For  an  instant  he  was  tempted  to 
run,  with  all  his  strength,  to  where  the  poor  brute  had 
given  up  his  life,  and  obtain  the  harnessings,  but,  fear 
lest  Melsach  should  have  friends  in  this  region,  or 
that  the  horse  might  gallop  away,  during  his  absence, 
deterred  him  from  losing  sight  of  either  the  maid  or 
the  animal. 

Any  hesitation  now  might  be  fatal  to  his  plans,  and 
the  soldier  hurriedly  approached  the  horse.  To  his 
surprise,  the  animal  raised  his  head  and  came  leisurely 
forward,  whinnying  in  recognition  of  his  presence. 

Panthera  paused. 


78  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Dion !    Dion !    Come  pet !    Come,  Dion !" 

The  horse  continued  to  advance  and,  at  last,  put  his 
nose  into  the  outstretched  hand  of  the  soldier.  Gently 
and  swiftly  Panthera  reached  up,  breathing  a  prayer 
of  thankfulness  as  he  secured  a  hold  on  the  foretop; 
caressing  the  docile  creature  he  patiently,  firmly 
asserted  the  human  will.  The  horse  submitted  without 
resistance. 

Coaxingly  he  lead  the  animal  to  where  Mary  lay, 
intending  to  wait  her  awaking.  Scarcely  had  he  paused 
beside  her,  however,  when  the  maid  moved,  turned  her 
face  toward  Panthera  and  looked  wonderingly  at  the 
horse  he  still  held  by  the  foretop.  She  could  hardly 
persuade  herself  that  it  was  not  the  one  she  had  seen 
stricken  down  a  short  time  before. 

To  guard  her  from  harm,  to  minister  to  her  slightest 
wish,  was  the  uppermost  thought  in  the  mind  of  the 
soldier.  In  this  service  he  would  not  have  exchanged 
places  with  any  person. 

"We  will  return  to  my  father;  my  deliverer,  my 
savior,"  she  said  and  reached  her  hand  to  Panthera. 

Briefly  he  explained  the  situation  to  her. 

"Wilt  thou  remain  here  that  I  may  obtain  the  har- 
ness of  my  faithful  Dion?"  he  asked. 

"If  thou  deem'st  it  wise,"  answered  the  maid,  but 
her  voice  trembled  and  betrayed  her  dread. 

"Thou  art  afraid,"  said  Panthera.  "Wilt  thou  permit 
me  to  place  thee  upon  the  horse?  He  is  entirely  sub- 
dued. I  will  lead  him." 

Her  brightened  face  answered  for  the  damsel,  and 
without  more  ado  the  soldier  lifted  her  to  the  broad 
back,  where  she  clung,-  half  alarmed  at  the  unac- 
customed position. 

Watchfully  Panthera  guided  the  horse  along  the 


Back  to  the  Camp.  79 

path,  speaking  only  words  of  cheer  to  the  maid.  With- 
out incident  they  arrived  at  the  scene  of  the  recent 
conflict. 

Not  knowing  what  might  be  the  effect  of  a  sight  of 
Dion  on  this  newly  acquired  horse,  Mary  sensibly 
agreed  to  hold  the  animal  while  Dion  was  stripped  of 
saddle  and  bridle.  Standing  on  a  small  hillock,  she 
twisted  her  slender  fingers  through  the  mane  of  the 
bandit's  horse  and  held  him  until  the  trappings  of  poor 
Dion  were  fitted.  Panthera  then  placed  her  before  him 
on  the  saddle,  and  mounting  turned  in  the  direction  of 
the  mountainway  again. 

"My  father  will  recompense  thee,"  Mary  said. 

"Say  not  so,"  replied  Panthera,  fervently.  "Accept- 
ance of  the  small  service  thy  servant  hath  been  able  to 
render  thee,  shall  be  mine  only  reward." 

"Not  so,"  replied  the  grateful  maid.  "Henceforth 
thou  art  the  friend  of  Joachim's  daughter." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  FIXED  GULF. 

The  two  traveled  down  the  mountainway,  each 
occupied  with  a  tumult  of  thought.  The  inevitable 
reaction  from  the  excitement  came  upon  them,  conver- 
sation was  indulged  in  but  sparingly  and  was  confined 
to  commonplace  matters. 

The  natural  buoyancy  of  youth  restored  to  Mary 
much  of  her  usual  spirits  and  the  strange  experience  of 
the  day  ceased  to  burden  her.  The  anticipation  of  being 
restored  to  the  arms  of  her  dear,  indulgent  parent  gave 
the  journey  an  unusual  interest  and  novelty.  In  these 
moments  of  reverie  she  coned  over,  in  her  mind,  how 
she  would  recount  every  particular  of  her  adventure. 
Joseph  must  listen !  Joseph  was  always  interested  with 
every  thing  affecting  the  daughter  of  Joachim.  Would 
he  not  be  indignant  when  she  related  all  the  facts  relat- 
ing to  Melsach !  What  an  ugly,  ill-sounding  name ! 

What  a  splendid  title — Cains  Panthera — and  how 
brave,  how  kind,  how  strong  he  was ! 

"Father  of  my  heart,  and  Joseph,  his  kinsman  and 
friend,  they  shall  listen  to  all,"  she  reflected,  "every- 
thing he  did  for  the  poor  maid,  who  was  unable  to  help 
herself.  They  will  be  glad  he  came  when  he  did.  How 
thoughtful  of  Salome  to  have  sent  him  just  in  time  to 
be  of  such  wonderful  assistance." 

The  last  thought  induced  a  number  of  queries,  some 
of  which  gave  her  alarm  and  deep  concern  about  the 
welfare  6f  her  beloved  parent.  She  called  to  mind  every 
word  contained  in  the  epistle  delivered  by  Panthera. 

80 


A  Fixed  Gulf.  81 

What  could  be  the  meaning  and  import  of  such  a  mes- 
sage ?  Could  it  be  possible  that  any  person  might  hold 
ought  against  her  father,  who  at  all  times  and  to  all 
persons  was  the  embodiment  of  patience,  kindness 
and  forgiveness  ?  These  questions  so  impressed  her  as 
to  cause  her  to  draw  closer  to  the  horseman,  and  a 
short  cry  escaped  her  lips. 

"Tell  me  thy  trouble,  daughter  of  Israel;"  and  he 
allowed  the  horse  to  slacken  its  pace. 

"Who  is  Salome?"  she  inquired,  turning  her  head 
to  look  into  his  face. 

"She  is  the  sister  of  Herod,  'King  of  the  Jews.' ' 
"What  knowledge  hath  she  of  my  father?" 
"Salome  would  befriend  Joachim,  and  preserve  him 
from  the  designs  of  her  brother,  the  king." 

"What  hath  my  father  done  that  the  king  should 
have  designs  against  him?" 

"I  cannot  tell  thee,  child.    I  do  not  know." 
"Still  thou  knowest  more  than  thou  care'st  to  tell  thy 
friend,"  said  Mary,  with  dignity.     "Thou  call'st  me 
child,  and  would'st  not  disturb  thy  servant  with  rumors 
of  evil.    Tell  me,  is  my  father  in  danger?" 

"I  fear  that  Herod  means  him  harm,"  was  the 
guarded  answer. 

"Why  should  the  king  seek  his  injury?" 
"Neither  can  I  tell  thee  that.  Herod  is  a  monster. 
Nothing  may  stand  in  the  way  of  his  desires.  Still 
Augustus  lives  and  Herod  dare  not  offend  the  Senate. 
Thy  father  hath  friends,  doubtless  they  will  protect  him 
and  his  property." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  said  the  maiden,  turning 
away,  "My  father  hath  always  been  a  friend  to  the 
friendless  and  afflicted ;  he  hath  neither  put  his  hand  to 
oppression;  nor  used  his  tongue  for  deceit.  He,  and 


82  Joachim's  Daughter. 

all  his  house,  have  honored  God  and  kept  his  command- 
ments." 

The  soldier  gently  turned  her  face  toward  him  again, 
the  bright  eyes  were  filling  with  tears.  The  thought  of 
harm  to  her  father  frightened  her  and  her  emotional 
nature  was  stirred  to  the  depths. 

"Can'st  thou  not  trust  the  God  of  thy  countrymen? 
I  have  heard  it  said  he  never  forsook  his  people,  that 
his  arm  was  mighty  to  save." 

"True,"  said  Mary,  steadying  her  voice.  "Thy  friend, 
a  daughter  of  Israel,  is  rebuked." 

"Far  be  it  from  me,  thy  servant,  I  did  not  intend  to 
rebuke,  but  to  encourage  and  comfort  thee,"  earnestly 
rejoined  Panthera,  fearing  to  have,  unwittingly,  given 
offense. 

"Still  it  is  true.    We  may — we  must — trust  him." 

Mary  bowed  her  head  and  remained  silent  until  a 
short  turn  in  the  road  revealed,  at  a  distance,  a  number 
of  persons  coming  toward  them. 

"Behold!  Are  not  these  thy  friends  approaching?" 
Panthera  pointed  down  the  highway,  and  Mary  turned 
her  face  toward  the  direction  indicated. 

The  soldier  was  pleased  that  something  had  occurred 
to  turn  her  mind  from  uncomfortable  and  disagreeable 
surmises.  In  his  heart  he  knew  the  king  meant  no 
good  toward  Joachim.  Moreover,  he  was  satisfied  that 
the  confiscation  of  the  patriarch's  property,  if  not  the 
forfeiture  of  his  life,  had  been  determined  upon.  A 
pretext  for  the  consummation  of  this  purpose  could  be 
found  without  much  trouble;  proof  to  sustain  accusa- 
tions, even  though  false,  need  not  be  wanting. 

All  the  officers  in  the  kingdom  were  but  creatures  of 
the  will  of  Herod,  from  the  high  priest  of  the  Sanhe- 
dran,  to  the  tax-gatherer,  who  collected  the  one-fourth 


A  Fixed  Gulf.  83 

of  all  the  people  produced  besides  the  obnoxious  per- 
capita  tax.  Years  of  submission  to  the  demands  of 
their  tyrant,  had  blunted  the  perceptions  of  the  unfor- 
tunate, ill-governed  subjects,  until  they  had  come  to 
look  upon  the  extortions  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  even 
further,  in  hope  of  individual  immunity,  had  become 
informers,  false  witnesses  and  accusers  against  the 
innocent  and  virtuous,  whose  only  fault  lay  in  the  fact 
of  their  having  been  blessed  in  basket  and  in  store. 

At  the  distance  it  was  not  possible  to  distinguish, 
with  any  certainty,  the  crowd  ascending  the  highway. 

The  maid  relapsed  into  anxious  silence  and  did  not 
reply  to  Panthera's  inquiry.  On  his  part,  he  could  not 
repress  a  feeling  of  sadness  as  he  contemplated  the  pos- 
sibility and  probability  of  parting  with  her  company. 

Within  a  short  time  quite  a  number  of  persons 
became  recognizable  among  the  advancing  throng. 
Foremost  was  the  venerable  Joseph. 

On  seeing  the  horseman  with  his  burden,  the  whole 
company  hastened  forward.  Joseph,  the  leader,  was 
mounted  upon  a  horse,  his  followers  straggled  along 
in  the  rear,  riding  horses  and  asses ;  while  still  another 
contingent  was  on  foot,  some  hurrying,  others  loiter- 
ing upon  the  way.  It  was  a  motley  crowd,  whose 
voluble  tongues  surprised  the  soldier  as  they  drew  near. 
Their  conversation  was  not  intelligible,  but  the  vehe- 
ment gestures  were  plainly  to  be  seen.  Something  had 
excited  this  inflammable  people  to  the  highest  tension. 

As  they  drew  near  Joseph  turned  and  addressed  his 
immediate  companions.  Whatever  was  said  had  the 
effect  of  putting  a  quietus  upon  the  expressions  so  pro- 
fuse but  a  moment  before.  This  order  or  command, 
whichever  it  may  have  been,  was  passed  back  among 
the  crowd,  producing  the  same  effect ;  silence  fell  imme- 


84  Joachim's  Daughter. 

diately  upon  the  throng,  that  had  been  so  boisterous. 
Their  faces  took  on  an  appearance  of  gloom  that  deep- 
ened the  nearer  they  approached. 

Mary,  conversant  with  the  peculiarities  of  her  own 
people,  became  apprehensive  of  some  calamity  associ- 
ated with  her  father. 

Arriving  before  the  maid,  Joseph  immediately  dis- 
mounted and  bowed  himself  low  to  the  earth. 

"Tell  me,  Joseph,  let  not  thy  handmaiden  wait  in 
fear.  Tell  me  I  pray  thee,  what  of  my  father  ?" 

"Daughter  of  Israel — daughter  of  the  Lord,  wilt 
thou  alight?"  This  was  said  as  Joseph  raised  himself 
from  the  lowly  position,  and  with  intention  to  delay 
his  answer  that  was  too  apparent  to  escape  notice. 

Panthera  swung  himself  from  the  saddle  and  assisted 
the  maid  to  dismount.  She  ran  to  her  kinsman  with 
hands  outstretched  in  an  imploring  attitude. 

"Hath  anything  happened  to  my  father?"  she  cried. 
"Why  callest  thou  me  'daughter  of  the  Lord'?" 

"Of  a  truth  thou  art  the  daughter  of  the  Lord,"  and 
again  Joseph  bowed  before  Mary,  visibly  affected  by 
her  distress. 

"Then  my  father  is  dead  ?"  she  exclaimed,  wildly. 

"Thou  hast  spoken,"  answered  Joseph. 

Mary  uttered  a  heartbroken  cry  and,  turning,  ran  to 
Panthera.  Her  blanched  face  appealed  to  his  tenderest 
sympathies,  unmindful  of  the  gaping  Jews,  he  drew  her 
to  his  breast,  where  she  clung,  quivering  with  uncon- 
trollable grief. 

Joseph  gazed  on  this  scene  in  dumfounded  amaze- 
ment, completely  surprised  by  the  unexpected  demon- 
stration. To  his  Jewish  sense  of  propriety,  it  was 
nothing  less  than  abhorrent. 

Panthera  was  touched  to  the  heart  by  the  suffering  of 


A  Fixed  Gulf.  85 

the  maid  clinging  to  him.  He  endeavored  to  soothe  her, 
speaking  such  words  of  comfort  as  occurred  to  his 
mind.  But  what  could  he  say  to  relieve  the  one  stricken 
with  sorrow,  who  was  convulsively  sobbing  out  the 
great  grief  that  had  fallen  so  crushingly  on  her  young 
life.  He  realized  how  wholly  inadequate  was  human 
expression  to  mitigate  her  suffering. 

The  respectful  silence  of  Joseph  and  his  assembled 
countrymen  was  at  last  broken  by  Mary,  who  turned 
her  tear-stained  face  toward  them  and  spoke  in  trem- 
bling tones : 

"My  kinsman,  I  pray  thee  keep  nothing  from  me. 
Was  my  father  killed  ?"  and  she  looked  searchingly  into 
the  face  of  Joseph. 

"The  hand  of  the  despoiler  was  withheld.  The  Lord 
suffered  his  servant  to  depart  without  violence," 
answered  Joseph,  reverently. 

"Speak  not  in  riddles,  I  implore  thee!"  exclaimed 
Mary,  going  a  step  nearer  him. 

"Thy  father  was  stricken  to  the  soul  because  of  fear 
for  thee,"  answered  Joseph,  pityingly.  "Nevertheless, 
he  fell  as  one  ripe  for  the  harvest.  When  thy  servant 
and  kinsman  came  into  the  tent,  Joachim  had  already 
been  taken  to  the  bosom  of  his  father  Abraham.  The 
presence  of  the  angel  was  felt  by  thy  servant,  who  was 
sore  afraid  and  bowed  himself  to  the  earth.  No  mes- 
sage came  from  the  lips  of  thy  father — they  were  for- 
ever stilled  in  death." 

"Alas !  Alas !  The  Lord  hath  saved  thy  child  and 
gathered  thee  to  thy  fathers.  I  will  go  to  thee — thou 
can'st  not  come  to  me.  Alas,  my  father!  Oh,  my 
father !"  The  abandon  of  grief  melted  the  sternest  of 
the  onlookers.  "Take  me  to  him,  Joseph.  Where  hast 
thou  laid  him?"  sobbed  Mary. 


86  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Come  and  see,"  he  answered. 

Placing  her  hand  in  his  outstretched  palm,  she 
passively  permitted  him  to  separate  her  from  Panthera. 

Leading  the  maiden  to  his  own  horse,  Joseph 
assisted  her  to  mount.  Placing  his  hand  on  the  bridle 
he  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  camp  and  walked  along 
at  her  side. 

Mary  bent  her  head  until  her  features  were  almost 
hidden  from  view  by  the  veil  of  wavy  hair.  Dear 
youthful  soul  alone  with  her  heartache  and  affliction. 

The  contemptuous  Jews  did  not  condescend  to  pay 
further  attention  to  the  stranger.  Led  by  Joseph  and 
Mary,  the  promiscuous  crowd  fell  in  and  began  their 
journey  toward  the  camp  of  the  prophets. 

Panthera  was  aware  of  the  isolation  of  the  Jewish 
people;  their  separation  from  the  rest  of  mankind  by 
reason  of  education  and  tradition,  as  well  as  political 
and  religious  convictions.  A  painful  realization  of  the 
gulf  fixed  between  himself  and  this  beautiful  Jewish 
maiden  gave  him  a  twing  of  heartfelt  misery  akin  to 
despair,  as  he  allowed  his  mind  to  dwell  upon  the  peculi- 
arities of  this  people. 

A  hopeless  loneliness  seized  him,  a  longing  for  one 
more  look  into  that  lovely  countenance,  some  slight 
token  from  her  by  which  he  might  know  that  he  was 
not  wholly  forgotten. 

He  raised  his  hand  to  his  uncovered  head,  remember- 
ing for  the  first  time  the  destruction  of  the  helmet.  How 
quickly  the  delirium  of  bliss  had  passed  from  his  grasp, 
how  soon  was  he  plunged  into  the  bitterness  of  disap- 
pointment and  mortification.  The  bowed  figure  of  the 
bereaved  maiden  moved  away  from  him,  unheeding  as 
a  carved  statue,  and  he  followed  her  afar  off. 


CHAPTER  X. 

AN  APT  ROGUE. 

Solan  Hai  waited  until  the  day  wore  on  toward  the 
third  hour  before  manifesting  impatience  for  the  return 
of  his  messengers. 

Alone  with  his  conscience  and  his  cares  he  could 
not  repress  a  vision  of  the  benign,  saintly  face  of 
Joachim,  as,  long  ago,  it  bent  over  him,  while  he  lay 
sick  unto  death.  He  remembered  the  intense  heat,  the 
burning  thirst  and  the  racking  pain.  The  only  hand  to 
succor  him  had  been  the  gentle  one  of  the  Jewish  lover 
of  men.  He  had  fanned  away  the  fever  and  brought 
the  ingrate  back  to  life. 

This  moody  train  of  reflection  produced  and  devel- 
oped a  condition  of  wretched  discomfort.  To  such  an 
extent  did  it  oppress  him  that  its  heavy  weight  became 
almost  unbearable.  To  remain  there  alone  seemed 
like  reaching  into  an  eternity  of  remorse.  It  had  been 
a  long  time  since  opportunity  for  communing  with  his 
own  thoughts  had  been  afforded  this  man,  steeped  in 
law-breaking ;  the  experience  was  neither  pleasant,  pro- 
fitable nor  entertaining. 

As  time  dragged  on  he  fumed  and  chafed  under  the 
loneliness  and  silence  reigning  about  him,  solitude 
unendurable  and  awful  stillness.  The  very  rocks  looked 
down  and  frowned  upon  the  man,  as  if  in  mute  reproach 
at  his  misspent  life;  at  crimes  and  offenses,  both  of 

87 


88  Joachim's  Daughter. 

omission  and  commission,  the  very  names  of  which 
were  blazened  forth  in  his  mind,  and  reflected  on  his 
fevered  imagination  with  a  vivid  distinctness — amazing 
and  horrifying  to  the  wretch,  distressing  his  fancy 
through  fear  of  retribution. 

This  state  of  mind  was  a  novel  one  to  the  wizard. 
Never  before  had  he  been  rilled  with  such  dismal  fore- 
boding ;  or  suffered  such  hideous  qualms  of  conscience. 
A  long  life  of  indulged  cruelty  and  wickedness  had 
blotted  out,  as  he  supposed,  all  feelings  of  compunction 
for  the  pain  or  misfortune  which  might,  in  this  check- 
ered life,  overtake  or  be  the  lot  of  his  fellow  man.  It 
had  been  years  since  gentle  pity,  or  the  smallest  inclina- 
tion to  show  mercy,  had  found  a  place  in  his  heart.  And 
now  he  anathematized  himself  for  submitting  to  what 
seemed  weakness,  or  allowing  so  small  a  matter  as  the 
memory  of  a  kindness  to  control  or  hinder  the  pursuit 
of  his  own  selfish  plans  or  designs. 

Springing  to  his  feet  he  startled  the  stillness  by 
horrid  imprecations  upon  the  head  of  every  person  and 
everything,  dancing  like  a  demon  to  the  refrain  of  his 
own  diabolical  profanity. 

In  the  midst  of  this  terrible  scene,  the  one  bandit 
left  alive  of  the  ill-fated  expedition,  appeared  leading 
his  horse.  Coming  in  sight  of  his  chief,  the  man  stood 
still  in  astonishment  at  the  furious  and  fantastic  antics. 

Solan  Hai,  catching  sight  of  his  companion,  reeled 
toward  him,  as  though  well  drunken. 

"By  all  the  gods  cravens  fear  and  fools  worship, 
why  dost  thou  stand  there  gaping?  Speak,  dog!  or 
I'll  cleave  thee  to  the  earth,"  he  exclaimed,  furiously. 

The  man  knew  not  whether  to  run  or  stand.  He 
hesitated  a  moment,  then  drew  his  scimiter  and 
assumed  an  attitude  of  defense. 


An  Apt  Rogue.  89 

"Do  not  strike  thy  servant!"  he  cried. 

"Put  up  thy  weapon,  fool.  Tell  thy  master  why  thou 
art  her  alone.  Where  is  Melsach — and  his  brother?" 

"Have  patience  I  pray  thee.  We  were  unable  to 
secure  the  treasure — " 

"Treasure!  Treasure!"  broke  in  the  wizard.  "It 
was  not  pelf  thy  master  required,  it  was  the  life  of  the 
prophet,  Joachim." 

"Joachim !  I  know  nothing  of  Joachim !"  exclaimed 
the  astonished  slave. 

"Thou  dog's  son,  decieve  not  thy  master.  Where 
is  Melsach?" 

"I  know  not.  As  I  live,  I  know  not,"  and  the  miser- 
able man  cowered  before  his  chief. 

"Where  did'st  thou  leave  him,  idiot?" 

"The  last  I  saw  of  him  he  was  riding  like  mad  with 
a  woman  before  him,"  answered  the  bandit,  making  a 
desperate  effort  to  speak  collectedly.  "A  soldier  of 
Herod  withstood  us  to  the  death.  His  sword  pierced 
the  brother  of  Melsach.  A  gray-beard,  curse  him, 
struck  thy  servant  with  a  club,  knocking  his  limbs  from 
under  him,  while  engaged  in  combat  with  the  soldier." 

"Soldier!  What  became  of  him?  Did'st  thou  kill 
him?" 

"Xo.  He  sprang  to  his  horse  near  by,  and  followed 
Melsach  and  the  girl.  This  left  thy  honored  servant 
to  fight  the  whole  camp.  To  fly  was  the  only  choice, 
the  privilege  of  which  was  not  to  be  lightly  dispensed 
with.  As  I  passed  the  first  mountain  road,  I  saw  Mel- 
sach in  the  distance,  with  the  soldier  in  hot  pursuit." 

"Why  did'st  thou  not  repair  thyself  to  his  assist- 
ance?" asked  Solan  Hai,  frowning  darkly. 

"It  was  but  a  short  time  before,  when  the  knave  left 
thy  servant  to  care  for  his  own  hide  as  best  he  might. 


90  Joachim's  Daughter. 

One  such  turn  deserves  another.    Let  it  be  between  him 
and  the  soldier." 

"Did'st  thou  recognize  the  soldier?" 

"It  was  Panthera  of  the  German  company.  A  comely 
fellow  with  a  mighty  arm." 

"Ah !  I  know  him  well.  He  comes  from  the  islands 
of  the  sea.  Barbarian,  but,  as  thou  sayest,  'a  comely 
fellow.'  Where  did  he  drop  from?" 

"I  know  not.  Yet,  we  had  excellent  reason  to  know 
of  his  presence,"  and  the  bandit  stooped  to  rub  his 
bruised  limbs. 

"Fires  of  gehenna !"  The  wizard  stamped  viciously. 
"One  dead,  the  other  gone  with  a  woman.  No  doubt 
it  was  Joachim  who  struck  thee.  Doth  thy  calf  smart  ?" 
A  sardonic  grin  disfigured  the  countenance  of  Solan 
Hai. 

"As  sore  as  thy  servant's  conscience,"  responded  the 
other.  "To  leave  the  treasure  in  the  keeping  of  two 
thieving  servants,  stings  like  the  tongue  of  a  wasp." 

"Thou  hast  behaved  well,  Costa,  my  friend.  Were 
Solan  Hai  a  Pharisee,  he'd  greet  thee  with  an  holy  kiss. 
As  it  is,  thou  art  commended.  Get  thee  back  to  Jerusa- 
lem with  all  speed.  Thou  mayest  be  recognized  and 
troublesome  questions  asked.  Get  thee  together  thy 
trappings.  What  thou  can'st  not  conveniently  carry, 
conceal  in  a  secure  place.  I  will  forward  messages  by 
thy  hand.  In  the  meanwhile  I  must  tarry  for  a  short 
time  at  Hebron." 

The  wizard  wrote  something  on  a  sheet  of  papyrus 
and  handed  it  to  Costa.  Securing  his  horse  he  betook 
himself  rapidly  toward  the  highway,  leaving  his  com- 
panion to  obey  orders  in  his  own  time. 

The  destination  of  the  wizard  was  Hebron  and,  as 


An  Apt  Rogue.  91 

soon  as  the  roughness  of  the  way  would  allow,  he 
mounted  and  traveled  along  at  a  goodly  speed. 

On  the  journey  he  observed  a  number  of  people 
hurrying  away  from  the  town.  Something  out  of 
the  usual  course  of  events  must  have  occurred  to  bring 
so  many  persons  into  the  highway.  They  were  all 
moving  in  the  same  direction,  and  as  they  passed  he 
caught  many  expressions  of  resentment  and  grief, 
coupled  with  the  name  of  Joachim,  which  caused  him 
to  believe  that  the  excitement  concerned  the  camp 
recently  raided  by  his  emissaries.  His  curiosity  was 
aroused  and  he  inquired  the  cause  of  the  commotion. 

He  quickly  learned  the  facts  connected  with  the 
death  of  Joachim,  and  this,  coupled  with  the  informa- 
tion he  received  from  Costa,  caused  him  to  retrace  his 
steps,  as  soon  as  he  could  do  so  without  arousing  suspic- 
ion, and  endeavor  to  overtake  his  companion  whom  he 
had  ordered  to  Jerusalem. 

He  was  fortunate  enough  in  this  undertaking,  meet- 
ing Costa  as  he  was  merging  out  on  the  Jerusalem  way. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  horse,  with  which  the  wizard 
was  familiar,  he  would  not  have  recognized  his  minion, 
so  well  was  he  disguised. 

"By  the  gods,  Costa,  thou  art  an  artist.  Thine  own 
mother  would  not  have  known  her  son!"  exclaimed 
Solan  Hai. 

"The  compliment  giveth  thy  servant  pleasure," 
answered  Costa.  "Were  Panthera  to  return  to  Jerusa- 
lem, the  road  would  be  covered  with  meddlesome 
soldiers." 

"Thou  hast  Herod's  safe  conduct." 

"True,  but  accidents  might  happen  that  would  make 
it  uncomfortable  for  thy  servant,"  and  Costa  leered 
cunningly  as  he  gave  a  sidelong  glance  at  his  master. 


92  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Solan  Hai  reflected,  making  no  comment  on  the 
remark  of  Costa. 

"I  will  look  after  this  Panthera,"  the  wizard  said, 
at  last,  "and,  if  possible,  keep  him  here.  Joachim,  in 
some  unaccountable  way,  took  it  upon  himself  to  leave 
this  world — which  was  a  mighty  accommodation  to 
Solan  Hai." 

"Then  it  must  have  been  another  who  struck  thy 
servant?"  said  Costa,  in  surprise. 

"In  all  probability,  yes.  A  debt  thou  can'st  cancel 
some  time  in  the  future,"  answered  Solan,  grimly. 
"Return  me  the  message  I  gave  thee.  I  will  entrust 
thee  with  one  of  more  pleasing  import." 

Drawing  a  package  from  the  folds  of  his  garment, 
Solan  Hai  wrote  and  folded  another  note.  This  he 
handed  to  Costa,  receiving  from  him  the  first  message. 

"Take  this  piece  of  gold,"  and  the  wizard  pressed  a 
glittering  coin  into  the  greedy,  out-stretched  palm,  "It 
will  heal  thy  troubled  conscience  from  the  mishap  of 
the  morning.  Deliver  the  message  to  Falodia,  the  law- 
yer. Do  not  travel  in  such  a  hurry  as  to  excite  suspi- 
cion, neither  lose  thou  any  time." 

"Thy  servant  will  not  forget  the  instruction  of  his 
most  gracious  master,"  Costa  said,  as  he  turned  his 
horse  toward  Jerusalem. 

Solan  Hai  watched  him  until  out  of  sight. 

"The  rogue  seems  apt,"  he  muttered.  "More  so  than 
I  had  thought.  He  is  bound  to  me  by  past  favors  and 
immunities ;  besides,  he  fears  me — which  latter  consid- 
eration is  most  to  be  counted  on.  I  must  spend  some 
time  in  looking  after  this  Panthera."  This  last  thought 
started  him  on  his  journey  toward  the  scene  of  excite- 
ment. 

Thoroughly   acquainted    with    the   crossroads   and 


An  Apt  Rogue.  93 

bypaths  of  the  region  he  had  no  difficulty  in  again  over- 
taking the  crowd  of  chattering  Hebronites.  Mingling 
with  them  he  soon  learned  a  full  account  of  what  had 
happened  during  the  morning. 

The  news  had  been  carried  to  Hebron  by  the  fright- 
ened servants  of  the  venerable  Joachim,  and  a  multi- 
tude had  at  once  proceeded  to  the  assistance  of  Joseph. 
The  stragglers,  with  whom  Solan  Hai  now  found  him- 
self, were  also  bound  for  the  camp. 

After  the  consternation,  owing  to  the  death  of  their 
countryman,  had  somewhat  subsided,  the  assembled 
Jews  turned  their  attention  to  the  matter  of  the 
daughter.  Joseph's  statement  as  to  the  abduction  raised 
a  hue  and  cry,  and  all  were  for  starting  at  once  to  the 
rescue.  Scant  means  for  pursuit  were  at  hand,  but 
Joseph  mounted  the  horse  of  the  dead  bandit,  and  his 
followers  made  the  best  of  their  way  after  him. 

They  started  from  the  camp  at  about  the  time  Solan 
Hai  was  giving  the  new  instructions  to  Costa,  and  easily 
followed  the  track  of  the  abductor  and  his  pursuer.  It 
was  not  long  before  they  met  Costa,  who,  certain  of 
his  complete  disguise,  did  not  hesitate  to  engage  the 
crowd  in  conversation. 

Coming  up  to  Joseph,  he  recognized  him  as  the  "gray- 
beard"  of  the  cudgel  and  determined  to  accost  him.  The 
soreness  had  not  yet  departed  from  the  bruised  limb  of 
the  defeated  robber.  He  was  still  smarting  from  the 
effect  of  the  blow  delivered  by  Joachim's  friend. 

"Peace  be  with  thee,  and  this  goodly  company," 
Costa  said,  deferentially.  "What,  I  pray  thee,  hath 
occurred  ?" 

"In  daylight — the  sun  being  half  an  hour  high — the 
camp  of  Joachim  was  attacked  by  bandits,"  answered 


94  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Joseph.  "Thou  art  a  stranger  in  these  parts  else  thou 
had'st  heard  of  the  matter." 

"Truly,  I  come  from  Bersheba,  a  good  morning's 
journey." 

"Thou  hast  said  the  truth.  It  is  a  fair  morning  fi 
journey,"  replied  Joseph  kindly,  having  formed  a 
favorable  opinion  of  the  stranger. 

"And  art  thou  in  search  of  the  robbers?"  queried 
Costa. 

"Alas!"  answered  Joseph.  "We  go  to  find  Mary, 
Joachim's  daughter.  She  was  carried  away  by  one  of 
the  robbers,  and  her  beloved  father  is  no  more." 

Horror  was  plainly  depicted  on  the  countenance  of 
the  hypocritical  Costa. 

"Most  venerable  friend,"  he  said,  with  mock  gravity. 
"Thy  servant  shall  make  complaint  to  the  captain  of 
the  king's  guard,  who  will  send  thee  soldiers,  to  pre- 
vent the  occurrence  of  outrages  like  this." 

"Joachim  was  well  beloved  by  all  his  people.  Herod 
will  remember  him,  no  doubt." 

"Indeed,  yes,  without  doubt,"  thought  Costa.  Aloud 
he  said  :  "In  Jerusalem  and  in  Jerico,  none  were  known 
better  than  thy  friend  Joachim.  I  am  informed  that  he 
carried  large  treasure?" 

"Yea,  verily,  a  goodly  sum  at  all  times,"  said  Joseph, 
and  Costa  fairly  groaned. 

"No  wonder  thy  indignation  waxeth  hot  at  the 
thought  of  robbery" — and  the  bandit  could  not  repress 
another  expression  of  regret.  Joseph  nodded  approval, 
entirely  misinterpreting  the  cause  of  Costa's  commis- 
seration. 

"I,  myself,  struck  a  blow  in  defense  of  our  friend," 
said  Joseph,  with  some  satisfaction.  "By  my  might  one 
of  the  robbers  was  felled  to  the  earth." 


An  Apt  Rogue.  95 

"So?  No  doubt  he'll  remember  it  to  thee."  Costa 
chuckled  to  himself,  though  his  face  remained  unfath- 
omable. 

"God  forbid,"  said  Joseph,  devoutly.  "I  have  no 
grudge  against  him.  I  forgive  him  as  I  expect  forgive- 
ness." 

"Peace  be  with  thee.  May  thou  find  the  robber  and 
smite  him  with  thy  strong  arm,"  said  the  polite  stranger 
as  he  rode  briskly  away,  after  bowing  to  the  gathered 
throng  and  saluting  Joseph. 

The  wizard  had  followed  slowly  after  Costa  and 
reached  the  cavalcade  on  the  way  to  the  little  camp, 
which  he  had  it  in  his  mind  to  visit.  But,  meeting  Joseph 
and  his  friends,  as  they  came  to  the  road  leading  up  the 
mountain,  he  mingled  with  them  and  was  an  eye  witness 
of  what  occurred  when  they  met  Panthera.  Listening 
intently,  observing  every  expression  of  the  actors  in 
the  distressful  scene  and  the  attitude  of  the  soldier 
toward  the  beautiful  maid,  he  drew  his  own  conclusions 
and  acted  accordingly. 

Allowing  his  horse  to  walk  leisurely  after  the  pro- 
cession until  they  came  to  the  road  leading  to  Hebron, 
the  wizard  drew  rein  and  waited  until  overtaken  by 
Panthera. 

"Panthera,  of  Herod's  German  retinue,  if  I  mistake 
not?"  he  said,  addressing  the  soldier. 

"Caius  Panthera  is  my  name.  Whom  have  I  the 
honor  of  addressing?"  was  the  deliberate,  reply. 

"Solan  Hai,  the  friend  of  Herod,"  and  the  wizard 
threw  back  his  cowl,  which  had,  up  to  this  time,  almost 
concealed  his  features. 

"Chancing  to  be  in  the  vicinity  I  was  attracted  to 
the  spot  and  witnessed  the  meeting  of  yourself  and  this 
people.  Surmising  that  you  might  not  be  familiar  with 


96  Joachim's  Daughter. 

some  of  their  customs,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might 
be  of  use  to  you." 

"In  what  respect,  pray?"  asked  Panthera,  distantly. 

"Among  this  people,  it  is  the  custom  to  mourn  seven 
days.  The  young  woman  began  her  mourning  when 
she  turned  from  you  to  her  own,'  remarked  Solan  Hai, 
insinuatingly. 

"Thou  art  a  Jew  ?"  asked  Panthera. 

"A  half  one.  Idumea  is  the  land  of  my  birth,"  said 
the  wizard  quietly. 

"Where  will  they  bury — Joachim  ?"  asked  Panthera. 
It  was  on  his  tongue  to  say  "the  father  of  Mary,"  but 
he  realized  that  Solan  Hai  was  narrowly  watching  him. 

"They  will  bury  him  to-morrow,  before  the  going 
down  of  the  sun,"  replied  Solan,  ignoring  the  flush  on 
the  soldier's  face.  "The  next  day  is  the  Sabbath.  If 
thou  wilt,  thou  may'st  tarry  with  a  friend  and  kinsman 
of  thy  servant  whose  abode  is  at  Hebron.  The  sepul- 
chre wherein  they  will  lay  Joachim  is  in  the  field  of 
Ephraim,  where  his  fathers  have  been  laid  before  him." 

Panthera  hesitated,  the  stranger  did  not  favorably 
impress  him,  but  he  must  not  neglect  an  opportunity  of 
remaining  near  the  sweet  maiden.  Even  should  this 
hospitable  offer  be  only  a  blind  for  treachery,  he  would 
accept  it  for  the  sake  of,  possibly,  knowing  more  of 
Mary,  of  again  speaking  face  to  face  with  her.  He 
turned  his  horse  into  the  Hebron  road  and  accompanied 
Solan  Hai. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  FRIEND  OF  THE  KING. 

The  camp  of  Joachim  presented  a  new  scene  from 
the  happenings  of  the  day.  The  crisp  grass  was  worn 
and  crushed  by  the  trampling  of  many  feet.  The  pre- 
sence of  groups  of  Jews  from  all  the  surrounding  coun- 
try lent  animation  to  the  heretofore  silent  place.  When 
occasion  required  conversation  was  carried  on,  but,  in 
undertones,  as  though  to  leave  undisturbed  the  stillness 
about  the  tent  where  the  body  of  the  patriarch  was 
laid.  The  sides  of  this  tent  were  rolled  up  and  a  num- 
ber of  persons  were  seated  on  the  ground  about  it. 

The  embalmers  had  prepared  the  spices  of  myrrh, 
aloes  and  spikenard,  which  gave  forth  an  overpowering 
scent,  filling  the  air  with  sweetness.  The  watchers  were 
decorous  and  solemn  in  their  behavior  and  quiet  in  their 
movements.  Every  step  was  measured  and  careful  and 
a  look  of  gravity,  like  a  covering  of  intense  sorrow,  was 
upon  the  faces  of  these  people. 

The  Jewish  merchant  had  been  well  known  and 
universally  esteemed  among  his  countrymen  who 
resided  in  this  region.  Many  of  them  had  been  recip- 
ients of  his  bounty  and  assistance  in  various  ways. 
They  knew  him  as  one  who  never  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  story  of  distress ;  whose  active  controlling  life-work 
had  always  been  on  the  side  of  his  people  in  every 
struggle  affecting  their  welfare.  His  wealth  had  made 
him  a  power,  felt  among  the  Israelites  only  for  their 

97 


98  Joachim's  Daughter. 

good.  On  this  day  many  could  not  refrain  from 
weeping,  telling  the  story  of  a  lost  friend,  and  mighty 
man,  who  had  fallen. 

The  sufferings  of  the  poor,  wounded  camel  had  been 
mercifully  ended  by  the  servants.  With  the  aid  of 
friendly  hands  they  had  consigned  the  carcass  to  a  deep 
grave  dug  on  the  spot.  The  folded  tents  had  been  again 
erected  for  the  convenience  of  those  who  watched  and 
for  others  who  came  to  lend  their  aid  to  those  in  need. 
All  these  people,  gathered  about  the  camp,  were  now 
waiting  for  the  arrival  of  Joachim's  daughter. 

As  the  day  lengthened  much  anxiety  was  felt  lest 
Joseph  had  been  unsuccessful  in  his  quest  and  they 
would  be  called  upon  to  mourn  the  loss  of  the  damsel, 
also. 

At  last,  when  the  day  was  well  nigh  spent,  the 
waiting  Jews  saw  the  rescuing  party  approaching. 
Joseph  and  Mary  were  in  the  lead  as  they  traveled 
along  on  the  mournful  journey.  The  maid  had  vouch- 
safed but  little  speech  to  the  sorrowful  Joseph,  and 
now,  oblivious  of  him,  she  turned  her  horse  in  from 
the  highway  and  rode  directly  toward  the  tent,  where 
lay  all  that  remained  to  her  of  her  best  beloved  friend. 

Dismounting,  she  accepted  the  proffered  arm  of 
Joseph,  who  led  her  to  the  bier.  One  of  the  attendants, 
after  a  pitying  glance  into  her  convulsed  face,  turned 
down  the  pall  and  allowed  the  damsel  to  gaze  on  the 
features  of  her  father,  still  and  cold  in  the  dreamless 
sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  The  heart-stricken 
daughter  fastened  her  eyes  for  a  moment  on  the  non- 
responsive  countenance,  then  fell  upon  her  knees 
weeping  and  kissing  the  stony  face.  She  clung  to  the 
lifeless  form  and  would  not  be  comforted. 


A  Friend  of  the  King.  99 

"My  father,  Oh,  my  father !"  she  sobbed.  The  cry  cut 
deeply  into  the  emotional  natures  of  the  sympathetic 
Israelitish  friends  who  listened  and  beheld  the  anguish 
and  tenderness  lavished  on  the  remains  of  Joachim. 

Many  women  from  Hebron  and  the  vicinity  had 
gathered  in  to  lend  whatever  assistance  might  be 
within  their  power.  They  mingled  their  motherly  and 
sisterly  expressions  of  grief,  their  lamentations  and 
broken  sobs  with  Mary's  sorrowing  cries;  turning  the 
place  into  mourning  as  could  no  other  tribe  of  people. 
The  men  were  not  exempt  in  this  respect  and  the  tears 
streamed  down  their  sun-burned  faces  in  genuine  com- 
miseration for  the  suffering  of  the  maid,  who,  in  so 
brief  a  time,  had  been  subjected  to  startling  experiences 
and  called  upon  to  pass  through  this  bitter  ordeal. 

In  the  midst  of  this  uncontrolled  grief  the  Rabbi 
arrived  from  Hebron.  With  his  patient,  living,  loving 
words  he  succeeded  in  pouring  the  oil  of  consolation 
upon  the  troubled  souls  of  this  sorely  pressed  people, 
whose  affections  had  been  broken  up  so  suddenly.  His 
timely  encouragement  found  a  place  in  the  minds  of 
the  hearers  and  went  far  to  still  the  tumult  and  bring 
them  to  a  sober  consideration  of  the  reality  surrounding 
the  scene  of  death — the  inevitable,  yet  merciful  appoint- 
ment of  God. 

"Joachim,  beloved  of  the  Lord,"  the  Rabbi  said 
impressively,  "like  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob  hath  died 
in  a  good  old  age,  an  old  man  and  full  of  years;  and 
was  gathered  to  his  fathers.  Let  not  thy  mourning, 
Oh,  my  people,  be  as  that  of  those  who  have  no  hope. 
Remember  the  angel  message  to  Moses  when  his  people 
were  afflicted.  From  the  burning  bush  the  voice 
declared :  'I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of 


ioo  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob' — not  the  God  of  the  dead 
but  of  the  living. 

"Mark  the  perfect;  behold  the  upright — for  the  end 
of  that  man  is  peace. 

"God  is  our  refuge !  A  present  help  in  trouble.  Let 
thy  trust  be  in  him.  Yea,  in  the  shadow  of  his  wings, 
make  thee  thine  hiding  place,  until  these  calamities  be 
over  passed.  Trust  in  him  at  all  times.  Pour  out  before 
him  all  thine  heart's  grief.  He  is  a  shield,  a  buckler,  a 
tower  of  strength  to  those  who  put  their  trust  in  him. 

"Unto  God,  the  Lord,  belongeth  mercy ;  for  he  rend- 
ereth  unto  every  man  according  to  his  work,  and  unto 
him  belong  the  issues  from  death. 

"The  mercy  and  goodness  of  the  Lord  are  from  ever- 
lasting to  everlasting  upon  them  that  fear  him,  and  his 
righteousness  unto  children's  children.  Men  shall  be 
blessed  in  him.  All  nations  shall  call  him  blessed." 

Turning  to  where  the  bereaved  maiden  still  bent  over 
the  form  of  Joachim,  the  revered  man  extended  his 
hand. 

"Come,  Mary,  daughter  of  the  Lord.  Take  thou  the 
hand  of  Joseph,  thy  kinsman,  thou  shalt  be  in  his  care." 

Joseph  moved  forward  and  clasped  the  trembling 
fingers  as  Mary  mechanically  obeyed  the  Rabbi. 

"Joseph,  friend  and  kinsman  of  Joachim,  henceforth 
thou  hast  a  double  charge.  This  child  must  be  as  thine 
own,  and  a  sister  to  thy  children." 

The  Rabbi  ceased  speaking  and  Joseph  led  the 
maiden  from  within  the  tent. 

Thus  came  the  night,  following  upon  a  day  crowded 
with  events  which  ever  marked  and  marred  the  after 
life  of  the  gentle  creature,  who  had  been  so  full  of  life 
and  beauty,  strength  and  hope,  at  the  rising  of  the 
morning  sun. 


A  Friend  of  the  King.  101 

Truly,  what  may  a  day  bring  forth?  Are  the  steps 
of  a  man  ordered  ? 

On  the  next  day,  the  day  before  the  Sabbath, 
Joachim  was  buried  in  a  sepulchre  over  against  Hebron 
in  the  land  of  Judea,  and  Mary  mourned  for  him,  with 
great  and  sore  lamentation,  seven  days. 

It  came  to  pass,  during  the  time  of  her  mourning, 
that  her  heart  went  out  to  Caius  Panthera  and  her  soul 
yearned  for  the  comfort  of  his  presence;  but,  she  pre- 
served this  within  her  own  breast,  and  was  afraid  to 
speak  of  the  matter  to  Joseph. 


Solan  Hai  conducted  the  soldier  to  one  of  the  most 
pretentious  dwellings  in  the  village,  where  he  was  hos- 
pitably received  and  entertained  by  one  Simon,  whose 
sirname  was  Gatzor,  a  trader  and  merchant  of  Hebron. 
The  household  of  this  person  consisted  of  himself,  his 
wife,  Mariam,  and  their  daughter  Alta,  a  handsome 
woman  of  the  dark  Jewish  type. 

Sumptuous  apartments,  luxuriously  furnished,  were 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  their  guest,  and  Panthera  was 
well  pleased  with  his  surroundings  in  the  Jewish  home. 

Constantly  watchful  of  Solan  Hai  and  mistrusting 
his  kindly  offices  toward  himself,  the  Roman  observed 
that  the  wizard  was  on  the  most  familiar,  and  appar- 
ently friendly  terms  with  the  host  and  hostess. 

No  effort  was  spared  to  render  Panthera  comfortable 
and  place  him  entirely  at  ease.  While  this  did  not  in 
the  least  flatter  the  soldier,  he,  for  want  of  a  better 
arrangement,  contented  himself  and  accepted  the 
courtesies  offered,  as  only  the  most  exquisite  breeding 
makes  possible. 


IO2  Joachim's  Daughter. 

That  the  wizard  had  some  villanous  design  beneath 
this  show  of  friendship,  the  soldier  had  not  the  smallest 
doubt.  Yet,  he  held  the  man  in  contempt,  feared  him 
not  at  all,  and  decided  that  a  few  days  spent  in  the  place 
would  not  be  wasted. 

The  particulars  of  the  exploit  in  the  mountain  arena, 
with  Melsach,  became  public  property  in  a  remarkably 
short  time.  The  account  was  highly  colored,  making 
Panthera  the  hero  of  the  hour.  The  inordinate  curiosity 
of  Mary's  countrywomen  had  intruded  upon  the  sanc- 
tity of  her  mourning,  and  she  had  been  compelled  to 
satisfy  their  craving  for  the  marvelous.  All  at  once 
the  soldier  found  himself  the  center  of  admiration  and 
attraction. 

To  look  out  upon  the  straggling  houses  and  listen  to 
the  incessant  conversation  of  Solan  Hai  was  a  mono- 
tony that  at  last  began  to  cloy  upon  the  spirit  of  Pan- 
thera. Accustomed  to  action,  loving  it,  he  began  to 
feel  that  something  must  be  done.  Solan  Hai  appeared 
to  be  on  intimate  terms  with  every  person,  so  that  to 
make  inquiries  concerning  him  was  not  the  part  of 
prudence.  Constantly  the  wizard  appeared  to  go  out  of 
his  way  to  cultivate  an  intimacy  with  the  Roman  and, 
as  constantly,  he  failed  to  make  the  slightest  inroad 
upon  the  reserve  with  which  the  soldier  surrounded 
himself.  The  latter  had  learned,  from  the  well  informed 
Solan,  that  the  Jewish  maiden  was  sojourning  within 
a  short  distance  of  Hebron  during  the  week  of  her 
mourning. 

It  was  the  fifth  day,  about  the  ninth  hour,  when 
Solan  Hai  stepped  into  the  apartment  occupied  by 
Panthera,  with  a  cordial  greeting,  so  affectedly  cordial 
indeed,  that  it  had  the  opposite  effect  on  the  soldier  to 
that  desired  by  his  visitor. 


A  Friend  of  the  King.  103 

To  possess  and  share  with  the  king  the  confiscated 
property  of  the  dead  patriarch,  was  the  plot  now  upper- 
most in  the  mind  of  the  schemer ;  and  to  use  the  soldier 
in  the  furtherance  of  the  design  was  the  primary  object 
of  this  visit.  The  death  of  Joachim  had  paved  the  way 
toward  the  success  of  the  enterprise,  the  plan  of  which 
had  been  maturing  in  the  fertile  brain  of  the  wizard. 

To  discover,  if  possible,  the  why  and  wherefore  of 
Panthera's  presence  at  the  camp  and,  as  a  matter  of 
safety,  what,  if  anything,  he  might  know  was  a  pre- 
liminary step.  At  the  same  time  he  wished  to  -ascertain 
in  what  manner  the  soldier  could  best  be  used  in  the 
accomplishment  of  this  matter,  either  by  lending  his 
active  interest  and  co-operation,  or  as  a  passive  instru- 
ment in  the  deft  hands  of  this  wily  manipulator  of 
money  and  men. 

Mary  must  be  disposed  of  in  some  way,  and  excuse 
must  be  furnished  for  the  seizure  of  her  patrimony. 
Trusting  to  his  customary  good  fortune  and  natural 
disposition  to  take  advantage  of  every  favorable  cir- 
cumstance, the  wizard  was  cautiously  feeling  his  way, 
with  never  for  a  moment  a  doubt  in  his  mind  of  the 
ultimate  success  of  his  plan. 

"Thou  art  aware  that  thy  servant  enjoys  the  confi- 
dence, and,  I  may  say,  the  friendship  of  the  king?" 
began  Solan  Hai.  insinuatingly. 

"So  I  understand,"  assented  Panthera,  quietly. 

"I  have  already  forwarded  an  account  of  this  out- 
rage to  Herod,  that  is,  so  much  of  it  as  I  have  been 
able  to  learn.  Thou  would'st  not  think  thy  friend  too 
inquisitive  should  he  venture  to  ask  thee  a  few  questions 
regarding  this  occurrence?"  and  the  wizard  seated 
himself  confidentially  near  the  soldier. 


IO4  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Not  in  the  least,"  was  the  unmoved  reply, 
"proceed." 

"Thou  did'st  exchange  horses  with  thine  antag- 
onist?" said  the  wizard,  and  a  keen  glance  accompanied 
the  question. 

"I  did.  I  was  compelled  to  do  so.  Mine  he  killed." 
Panthera  answered,  measuring  the  man  before  him 
coolly  with  careless  eyes. 

"The  animal  is  mine.  It  had  been  stolen  a  short  time 
previous.  I  recognized  him  the  moment  I  saw  him  in 
thy  possession.  Fear  not;  henceforth  he  is  thine,  the 
gift  of  thy  friend."  Panthera  was  gazing  searchingly 
at  his  companion  in  silence  that  disconcerted  the  speaker 
not  a  little. 

"A  large  tract  of  land  is  in  my  possession  near-by. 
This  animal,  with  others,  had  been  running  at  large. 
'Tis  a  noble  beast  and  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  place  it 
at  thy  disposal."  A  shade  of  anxiety  crept  into  the 
face  of  Solan  Hai  as  he  waited  for  Panthera's  reply. 

It  was  no  part  of  Panthera's  mode  of  procedure  to 
give  offense  to  his  visitor,  and  the  suave  voice  almost 
reassured  Solan  Hai  as  the  soldier  replied : 

"Such  a  gift  will  serve  me  well  at  this  time.  My  loss 
seemed  all  but  irreparable.  I  accept  with  gratitude." 

"Mention  it  not,  I  pray  thee,"  was  the  quick  reply, 
relief  evident  in  the  wizard's  tones.  "The  body  of  the 
robber  has  been  found.  There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to 
the  manner  of  his  death.  And  yet,  there  will  be 
inquiries  made  as  to  the  particulars." 

"I  am  ready  at  any  time  to  give  account  of  my  doings 
in  this  matter,"  responded  Panthera,  noticing  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"Of  course,  certainly.    I  had  no  doubt  of  that.     It 


A  Friend  of  the  King.  105 

was  quite  opportune,  thy  presence  at  the  camp  when 
the  attack  commenced,"  said  the  wizard  awkwardly,  at 
a  loss  for  words  to  ask  the  thing  uppermost  in  his  mind, 
namely,  why  Panthera  had  been  there  at  all  ? 

"Perhaps  so,"  answered  the  soldier,  provokingly. 

"Thou  wast  an  acquaintance  of  Joachim  ?"  asked  the 
bland  voice,  undeterred  by  the  soldier's  reserve. 

"No,  never  saw  him  before,"  was  the  somewhat  sur- 
prising reply. 

"Nor  his  daughter?"  added  Solan,  making  a  real 
mistake. 

"Nor  his  daughter,"  repeated  Panthera,  with  a  slight 
show  of  impatience. 

This  lack  of  acquaintance  struck  the  wizard  as 
somewhat  peculiar,  still,  he  did  not  betray  his  astonish- 
ment, but  continued  to  pry  into  the  matter. 

"Did'st  thou  have  business  with  him?" 

"I  did,  a  small  matter." 

These  deliberate  replies  nettled  Solan  Hai.  He  had 
been  so  much  held  in  awe  by  his  associates  that  this 
treatment  was  not  easily  endured.  In  spite  of  his  inten- 
tion a  threat  crept  into  his  next  utterance. 

"Thou  mayest  be  called  upon  to  answer  before 
Herod's  officer  as  to  thy  business.  Dost  thou  under- 
stand?" 

"Perfectly,"  replied  Panthera  with  indifference. 

Solan  Hai's  ugly  brows  wrinkled  but  he  preserved 
the  even  tones  of  voice  as  he  continued  : 

"Perhaps  thou  would'st  tell  thy  friend  about  the 
small  matter,  so  thy  servant  could  report  more  fully. 
Thou  might'st  be  saved  trouble  with  the  investigation." 

"I  perceive,"  answered  Panthera,  "but,  I  must 
decline  to  further  enlighten  my  friend." 


106  Joachim's  Daughter. 

The  sarcastic  intonation  of  the  last  words  was  not 
to  be  mistaken.  Even  in  the  dark,  as  he  was,  Panthera 
seemed  to  be  more  than  a  match  for  the  consummate 
rascal  before  him. 

"For  what  reason,  I  pray?"  Solan  asked  after  a 
moment. 

"The  same  I  would  offer  the  king's  officer." 

"And  that?"  eagerly. 

"It  would  be  no  concern  of  his." 

Panthera  arose,  giving  the  wizard  to  understand  that 
the  interview  was  at  an  end.  The  latter  could  not  fail 
to  accept  so  broad  a  hint  and,  though  inwardly  chaf- 
ing, withdrew  smilingly  in  well-feigned  friendliness. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  TEMPTATION. 

Sleep  did  not  bring  to  Solan  Hai  forgetfulness  of  the 
way  in  which  his  inquiries  had  been  parried.  He  did 
not  dismiss  from  his  mind,  nor  attempt  to  disguise 
from  himself,  the  resentment  that  had  arisen  against 
the  soldier,  and  feverish  dreams  troubled  his  rest. 

Morning  found  the  mortification  and  anger  of  the 
wizard  increased  to  an  extent  that  boded  ill  to  the 
Roman.  When  he  dwelt  on  the  nonchalant  grace  with 
which  the  rebuff  had  been  administered,  he  was 
incensed  beyond  bearing,  and,  in  his  rage,  stamped  the 
floor  with  his  huge  feet  in  impotent  fury. 

He  resolved  to  ascertain  why  this  adventurer  had  put 
in  an  appearance  at  so  timely  an  hour.  Acting  with  this 
purpose  in  mind  he  saddled  his  horse  and  in  the  early 
morning  hours  was  on  the  road  that  led  to  the  camp 
lately  occupied  by  the  wise  men.  As  he  traveled  his 
face  took  on  a  look  of  malevolence.  Anon  he  smothered 
some  deep  imprecations,  coupled  with  the  name  of  Pan- 
thera  that  could  not  have  reassured  or  pleased  that 
devoted  soldier  had  he  heard  them. 

"I'll  teach  the  dastard,  curse  him,  to  insult  me;  me, 
Solan  Hai!" 

The  horse  jumped  from  fear  at  the  vehemence  of  the 
expression.  For  some  distance  the  infuriated  man 
allowed  the  animal  free  rein  while  he  dug  his  sharp 
sandaled  heels  into  the  sides  of  the  astonished  Arabian. 

107 


io8  Joachim's  Daughter. 

He  did  not  slacken  his  headlong  pace  until  the  site  of 
the  encampment  was  in  view,  then  he  drew  rein  and 
sobered  himself  before  his  destination  was  reached. 

The  servants  had  remained  in  charge  awaiting  the 
further  orders  of  Mary  and  Joseph. 

Solan  Hai  dismounted,  secured  his  horse  and 
approached.  Both  servants  arose  from  where  they  had 
been  reclining  and  awaited  the  advance  of  their  visitor. 
Coming  within  a  few  paces  of  where  they  stood,  the 
wizard  addressed  the  men  in  a  tone  calculated  to  inspire 
their  awe  and  terror. 

"Thou  knowest  me !  Thou  knowest  who  I  am !  Dost 
thou  hear?"  The  snake  eyes  of  the  speaker  glittered 
savagely  as  he  gazed  sternly  at  the  servants. 

In  evident  consternation  at  this  abrupt  introduction, 
one  of  the  men  stammered  : 

"Thou  art— art— " 

"The  wizard  of  Jerusalem,  Solan  Hai.  Thou  art 
right.  Now  then,  look  sharp.  There  must  be  no  trifling 
between  thee  and  me.  Dost  thou  comprehend  ?" 

The  wizard  came  close  to  the  servants,  speaking  with 
compelling  intensity. 

"We  are  thy  humble  servants,"  blurted  out  both 
men,  moved  by  sudden  fear. 

"Give  me  thine  ears.  When  the  stranger  arrived,  on 
the  morning  of  Joachim's  death,  thou  wert  here?" 
demanded  Solan. 

"Truly  hast  thou  said.  We  were,"  answered  one; 
while  the  fellow  servant  bowed  his  head  in  acquies- 
cence. 

"Knowest  thou  what  brought  him  here?"  asked  the 
wizard. 

"A  horse,"  promptly  replied  the  most  forward  of  the 
men. 


The  Temptation.  109 

"Dolt!'  exclaimed  the  questioner.  "What  was  his 
business,  if  thou  knowest?" 

"I  know  not,"  answered  the  man. 

"Nor  I,"  echoed  his  companion. 

"Show  me  the  spot  where  Joachim  lay  when  thou 
did'st  discover  him  dead,"  commanded  Solan. 

Without  demur  the  servants  led  the  way.  The  tent 
had  not  been  taken  down  and  Solan  Hai  followed  them 
into  it.  One  of  the  servants  pointed  to  the  spot,  and 
said : 

"Here  is  where  he  lay.  His  kinsman,  Joseph,  was  the 
first  to  know.  We  came  at  his  call." 

"Hath  anything  been  moved  out  of  the  tent,  since 
then?"  asked  Solan,  as  his  keen  eyes  searched  the  place. 

"Nothing,  except  the  body,"  was  the  reply. 

"Since  the  funeral,  hath  Joseph  returned  here?" 

"He  hath  not,"  replied  the  wondering  servant. 

"Where  is  he  now?"  Solan  frowned  darkly  and 
glowered  at  the  trembling  men  as  though  falsehood 
would  bring  instant  and  terrible  calamities. 

"Joseph  accompanied  the  maid  to  the  home  of 
Johanna,  the  wife  of  Melton,  on  the  Jerusalem  way,  a 
short  distance  from  Hebron,"  said  the  man,  and  as 
Solan  continued  to  frown  without  speaking,  he  added. 
"Thy  servants  were  ordered  to  remain  here  until  their 
return." 

Solan  Hai  seemed  to  note  the  speech,  but  waved 
his  hand  toward  the  entrance. 

"Thou  may'st  depart,  but  remain  within  call,"  he 
said,  and  they  gladly  obeyed  the  command  without 
question. 

Left  alone  the  wizard  resolutely  and  systematically 
proceeded  to  ransack  every  nook  and  corner  of  the 
tent.  Everything  was  turned  over  and  pryed  into,  nor 


no  Joachim's  Daughter. 

did  he  desist  until  the  undertaking  was  thoroughly 
finished  to  his  own  satisfaction. 

The  scrolls  and  rolls,  after  a  quick  examination,  he 
threw  from  him  with  contempt.  All  other  writings  he 
secured  for  further  consideration  and  future  reference. 
Solan  Hai's  search  for  the  cause  of  Panthera's  presence 
at  the  camp  of  Joachim  was  quite  successful,  for,  among 
the  writings  he  carefully  and  grimly  folded  together 
and  concealed  preparatory  to  departure,  was  the  mes- 
sage from  the  king's  sister,  Salome,  which  had  been 
overlooked,  where  it  had  fallen  from  the  hand  of  the 
dead  Israelite. 

"I'll  look  these  over  carefully  when  I  have  more 
time,"  he  muttered,  rapidly  replacing  the  articles  dis- 
turbed in  the  search  so  as  to  leave  no  evidence  of  his 
visit'.  This  arranged,  he  stalked  out  to  where  the  ser- 
vants waited  and  pausing  before  them  drew  his  ill- 
formed  body  to  its  most  imposing  posture. 

"Solan  Hai  never  forgives  an  act  of  treachery,"  he 
began,  addressing  them  with  punctilious  severity. 
"Thou  wilt  forget  this  visit.  Never  to  mention  or  refer 
to  it  will  be  the  proper  thing.  Men  go  to  Tartarus  who 
allow  their  tongues  to  wag  too  freely — and  women  too 
— sometimes.  Dost  thou  comprehend  ?" 

One  of  the  men  recovered  himself  from  the  horror 
of  this  tirade  and  answered  : 

"Most  gracious  master,  thy  servants  know  thy  power 
and  will  obey  thy  wishes." 

"By  so  doing  thou  wilt  save  thy  precious  heads," 
growled  Solan.  "Here  is  a  piece  of  gold  for  each  of 
thee,"  and  he  dropped  the  yellow  coins  into  the  palm  of 
the  man  nearest  him.  "Regard  thyselves  in  the  serviqe 
of  Solan  Hai,  the  wizard,  who  always  rewards,  do  not 


The  Temptation.  in 

forget — always  rewards,  and  knows  how  to  punish 
disloyalty." 

Without  waiting  for  reply  Solan  Hai  turned  away, 
walked  to  his  horse  and,  mounting,  retraced  his  way, 
without  one  backward  glance,  to  Hebron  and  the  house 
that  sheltered  Panthera. 

Later,  in  the  same  day,  the  wizard  sought  again  the 
presence  of  the  Roman  soldier,  who  received  him 
kindly,  without  show  of  displeasure,  and  as  if  nothing 
had  occurred  to  disturb  his  equanimity. 

There  was  an  air  of  assurance  in  the  demeanor  and 
bearing  of  the  friend  of  Herod,  on  this  occasion,  that 
did  not  escape  the  observation  of  the  soldier.  A  pre- 
sentment seized  him  that  Solan  Hai  would  return  to 
the  subject  so  peremptorily  dismissed  on  the  previous 
day.  In  this  he  was  not  mistaken.  The  wizard  did  not 
keep  him  long  in  doubt. 

"On  yesterday,  my  friend,"  he  began  in  a  voice  from 
which  he  vainly  strove  to  eliminate  his  satisfaction, 
"I  fear  thou  wast  disposed  to  take  offence  at  what 
might  have  seemed  to  be  inquisitiveness  on  the  part  of 
thy  servant.  Let  me  assure  thee,  my  inquiries  were 
meant  for  thy  good — only  for  thy  good." 

"No  doubt,  Solan  Hai,  thou  art  deeply  interested  in 
the  welfare  of  a  soldier  of  fortune  with  nothing  but  his 
sword  and  strong  arm  to  commend  him."  Panthera 
answered,  feeling  a  sort  of  enjoyment  at  the  discomfit- 
ure of  his  self-styled  friend. 

"Thou  hast  most  truly  voiced  my  sentiments  and 
disposition.  Though  I  say  it  myself,  it  hath  always  been 
my  way  to  recognize  merit  wherever  it  might  be 
found."  The  beetle  brows  moved  but  a  hard  smile 
played  about  the  mouth  of  the  wizard,  for  he  was  deter- 
mined to  make  the  most  of  this  opportunity. 


112  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Panthera  did  not  comment,  thinking  it  best  to  allow 
his  interviewer  to  unburden  his  mind  in  his  own  way. 

"I  may  say,"  continued  Solan  Hai,  after  a  moment, 
"that  many  are  indebted  to  thy  servant  for  favors  in 
this  respect.  I  stand  well  at  the  court  of  Herod;  am 
known  as  the  friend  of  the  king." 

"Thou  hast  assured  me  of  that  fact  on  another 
occasion.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  thy  word."  But 
Panthera's  tone  indicated  that,  while  he  might  not 
doubt  the  word  of  Solan  Hai,  neither  did  he  rate  it  of 
consequence. 

The  wizard  controlled  the  fury  that,  with  any  other 
man  to  deal  with,  he  would  have  allowed  full  sway. 

"'Tis  no  light  thing  to  count  on  the  good  offices  of 
Solan  Hai ;  I  assure  thee  Panthera,  I  can  be  of  lasting 
service  to  thee,"  he  said  earnestly. 

"In  what  respect?"  asked  Panthera.  "Pray  come  to 
the  point." 

"So  be  it,"  said  the  wizard,  with  a  sudden  change  of 
tone,  "I  will.  Listen  patiently." 

"I  am  quite  willing  to  know  of  what  thou  would'st 
speak,"  the  soldier  said.  "I  am  all  attention."  But 
his  tone  conveyed  anything  other  than  patience. 

"Thou  art  a  soldier  without  a  shekel  of  gold  either  in 
thy  purse,  or  in  prospect." 

The  effect  of  the  words  was  keenly  watched  for  by 
Solan  Hai.  Apparently  Panthera  was  unaffected  for 
he  replied  calmly : 

"For  once,  thou  hast  spoken  the  truth." 

The  wizard  bit  his  distorted  lips,  but  went  on  evenly : 

"Thou  art  an  alien  to  the  commonwealth  of  Israel 
and  Rome,  as  well." 

"Quite  true,"   assented   the  soldier   imperturbably. 


The  Temptation.  113 

"My  eyes  fisst  beheld  the  light  in  that  far  away  island 
bejond  Gaul." 

"Thy  father  failed  to  make  terms  with  Augustus. 
Fortune  was  against  him  and  misfortune  pursues  his 
son,"  said  Solan. 

"My  father  loved  the  principles  of  right/'  cried  Pan- 
thera  warmly.  "He  hated  deceit.  I  thank  the  gods 
the  same  noble  blood  flows  in  the  veins  of  his  son." 

Solan  Hai  had  not  meant  the  conversation  to  take 
this  turn.  He  hastened  to  smooth  the  matter. 

"Yes !  Yes !"  he  exclaimed  in  some  confusion.  "I 
quite  agree  with  thee,  though  we  might  differ  as  to  the 
expediency  of  things.  Well,  let  that  pass.  A  friend, 
thou  knowest,  is  oft  times  a  necessary  and  convenient 
adjunct  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  especially  when 
that  struggle  is  so  unequal." 

"I  believe  I  understand  thee.  Thou  hast  something 
to  offer.  Out  with  it."  The  soldier  condescended  to 
make  his  replies  in  a  gentle  manner,  still  he  but  ill  con- 
cealed his  disgust. 

"He  who  might  expect  friendship,  should  act 
friendly,"  persisted  the  wizard  fawningly. 

"Possibly — and  even  at  the  expense  of  his  honor," 
answered  Panthera  in  a  tone  of  bitterness. 

"In  these  matters,  we  should  not  make  too  nice  or  too 
wise  distinctions,"  said  Solan  somewhat  impatiently. 
"Thou  art  in  need  of  gold  ?" 

"Granted — thou  would'st  take  advantage  of  the  needs 
of  thy  friend — proceed." 

The  penetration  of  Panthera  was  not  pleasing  to  the 
wizard,  however,  he  would  not  understand  the  scorn 
now  visible  in  the  face  as  well  as  in  the  voice  of  the 
Roman. 

"I  would  place  thee  in  a  position  where  thou  would'st 


H4  Joachim's  Daughter. 

command  the  very  desires  of  thine  heart,"  said  Solan, 
carefully. 

"Explain  thyself !"  peremptorily  demanded  Panthera. 

"Thou  art  in  love — with  the  Jewish  maiden,  the 
orphan  daughter  of  Joachim,"  commenced  the  wizard 
deliberately.  "I  know  that  she  loves  thee  in  return  and 
longs  for  thy  society.  The  sacred  law  of  her  race  will 
not  permit  her  to  intermarry  with  one  who  is  not  an 
Israelite.  An  impassible  gulf  is  fixed  between  she  and 
thee.  I  can  overcome  these  difficulties,  provide  thee  a 
competency,  and  the  woman  of  thy  choice.  A  ship  shall 
be  at  thy  disposal,  within  a  week  thou  may'st  be  on  thy 
way  to  Italy,  or  Britain,  as  thou  may'st  elect." 

Solan  paused  and  looked  into  the  calm,  unmoved  face 
of  the  man  seated  before  him. 

"What  equivalent  am  I  to  render  for  this  fore- 
thought; this  provision  for  my  welfare;  I  may  say, 
this  disinterested  kindness?" 

The  question  was  a  thrust  and  the  wizard  was  not 
exactly  prepared  for  it.  The  perfect  gravity  with  which 
it  was  propounded  confused  him.  Still,  he  recovered 
quickly  and  returned  once  more  to  the  subject.  The 
object  before  him  was  too  important  to  allow  a  small 
matter  to  hinder  its  accomplishment. 

"Thou  hast  misunderstood  thy  servant,"  he  said,  in  a 
wheedling  voice. 

"I  wait  patiently  for  further  enlightenment.  Go 
on,"  said  Panthera,  his  absolute  composure  increasing 
the  trepidation  of  Solan. 

"I  would  do  thee  a  service,"  reiterated  the  wizard. 
"One  that  most  men,  in  your  circumstances,  would 
gladly  accept.  You  hesitate — as  though  the  obstacles 
were  too  great  and  my  promises  could  not  be  per- 
formed. I  tell  thee,  I  can  do  all  I  say,  and  more — 


The  Temptation.  115 

wilt  thou  entertain  my  proposals,  or  wilt  thou  take 
time  to  consider  them  ?" 

"I  will  do  neither  the  one  nor  the  other;  I  cannot." 
The  soldier  arose  and  walked  across  the  room.  "I  am 
persuaded,"  he  exclaimed,  facing  Solan  Hai,  "that, 
under  the  guise  of  friendship,  and  service  to  my  inter- 
est— my  desires — there  is  a  motive  that  would  work 
wrong  and  injury  to  her  whom  thou  hast  mentioned. 
Besides,  her  wishes  have  not  been  consulted.  Thou 
would'st  make  me  a  creature  altogether  like  thyself — 
a  thief.  I  have  never  willingly  given  offense  to  any 
man,  neither  will  I  accept  it,  least  of  all  from  thee." 

Panthera  had  drawn  near  to  the  wizard,  whose  face 
paled  at  the  denunciation. 

"Listen!"  thundered  the  soldier,  "Let  there  be  an 
understanding  between  us.  Let  ought  of  injury  come 
to  that  innocent  maiden — "  the  soldier  paused. 

Solan  Hai  sprang  to  his  feet  and  glared  into  the  stern 
face  before  him  with  a  terrible  look  of  hatred,  which 
was  met  scornfully.  The  momentary  silence  was  broken 
by  the  wizard : 

"Thy  life  is  in  the  hands  of  the  man  whom  thou  hast 
seen  fit  to  scorn  and  defy,"  he  hissed.  "Make  no  mis- 
take, thou  art  completely  in  my  power." 

"That  may  be  true,  and  yet,  I  dare  thee  to  do  thy 
worst,"  cried  Panthera,  undaunted. 

"I  offered  thee  home,  riches,  the  woman  of  thy 
choice.  All  these  on  one  condition — only  to  take  her  and 
depart.  I  withdraw  my  offer.  I  take  back  my  friend- 
ship as  well.  I  know  thy  very  thoughts,  Panthera. 
Beware!  If  thou  dost  further  cross  the  path  of  Solan 
Hai,  it  had  been  better  for  thee  if  thou  had'st  never 
been  born."  The  venomous  words  fell  in  a  torrent 
and  the  wizard  clinched  his  fists  while  he  spoke. 


n6  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"I  have  not  wittingly  or  willingly  given  thee  offense, 
save  in  this  one  thing,"  Panthera  said.  "Thou  would'st 
tempt  me  to  outrage  the  purity  of  an  innocent  woman. 
Thou  did'st  explain  the  impossibility  of  honorable 
marriage,  and  then  thou  offerest  me  a  dastardly  alter- 
native. Is  thy  heart  so  thickened  as  not  to  feel  thou 
hast  offended  past  reconciliation?" 

"Be  it  so,"  sneered  Solan.  "Thou  hast  chosen.  Let 
me  expose  some  of  the  danger  confronting  thee.  Thou 
art  an  hireling  of  the  king — his  soldier  for  pay.  Thou 
dost  eat  and  drink  at  his  table  only  to  betray  him." 

"Thou  hast  the  venom  of  a  snake  and  the  tongue  of 
a  false  witness,"  interrupted  Panthera. 

"Reserve  thy  judgment  lest  thou  condemn  thyself 
before  hand,"  answered  the  wizard.  "The  sister  of 
the  king  was  thy  visitor  the  night  thou  did'st  leave  Jeru- 
salem. Doubtless  she  is  thy  friend  and  shall  be  able  to 
succor  thee  in  the  hour  of  need." 

Panthera  did  not  deign  to  reply  and  the  wizard  con- 
tinued : 

"She  sent  by  thee  a  message,  which  thou  did'st 
deliver  to  another  with  all  dispatch.  A  message,  I  may 
say,  not  complimentary  to  thy  master — who  feeds  and 
pays." 

The  exultant  irony  of  the  tone  betrayed  still  farther 
the  base  nature  of  the  speaker. 

"Suppose  all  this  to  be  true,"  said  Panthera,  "what 
is  it  to  thee?" 

"It  is  naught  to  me,"  cried  the  baffled  schemer. 
"While  I  was  thy  friend  I  felt  thy  danger,  now,  since 
thou  dost  chose  thine  own  way,  I  will  tell  thee  this — 
thou  hast  identified  thyself  with  conspirators  against 
the  throne  of  Herod." 


The  Temptation.  117 

"Dost  thou  mean  Joachim?"  asked  Panthera,  sur- 
prised. 

"Yes,  Joachim,  the  father  of  the  woman  thou  lovest." 
Solan  waited  for  a  moment  hoping  for  some  sign  of 
weakening  from  the  soldier. 

"Consider  well  my  proposal  of  friendship,"  he  con- 
tinued. "Again  I  pledge  it.  Thou  may'st  have  gold- 
gold,  the  maiden,  home — all !  all !  Leave  the  land  of 
Israel !  Take  her  with  thee !  Everything  is  within 
thy  grasp.  She  loves  thee — she  is  willing,  I  know. 
The  wizard  knows  all  things.  What  sayest  thou  ?  Thou 
wilt  accept  the  offer  of  thy  friend  ?" 

"Thou  knave.  No;  ten  thousand  times  no!  Never 
will  I  listen  again  to  any  word  from  thee,"  excitedly 
exclaimed  the  soldier,  and  he  dashed  from  the  room  and 
the  presence  of  the  tempter. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  PRISONER. 

Prompted  by  angry  excitement  that  rendered  him, 
for  the  time,  incapable  of  collected  thought,  Panthera 
went  out  of  the  dwelling  and  into  the  streets  where 
he  walked  until  aware  that  his  rapid  strides  were 
attracting  attention.  The  publicity,  into  which  the 
rescue  of  Mary  had  brought  him,  was  extremely  dis- 
tasteful and,  noting  the  curious  eyes  following  his 
movements,  he  retraced  his  steps  forthwith,  intending 
to  make  preparations  for  immediate  departure.  To 
remain  longer  under  obligations  to  the  man  whom  he 
now  knew  to  be  his  uncompromising  enemy  was  not 
possible,  and  he  keenly  realized  that  to  widen  the  breach, 
already  created,  would  be  the  inevitable  consequence 
of  another  meeting. 

On  re-entering  his  apartment  Panthera  discovered, 
as  he  had  expected,  that  Solan  Hai  was  no  longer  there. 
The  horse,  the  gift  of  the  bland  villian,  in  the  light  of 
recent  revelations  could  not  be  accepted,  and  the  soldier 
determined  to  go  away  on  foot.  He  had  sojourned 
in  these  parts  long  enough,  too  long  for  comfort  or 
safety. 

He  no  longer  attempted  to  dismiss  from  his  mind 
the  thought  of  the  Jewish  maiden.  At  no  time  since 
the  beginning  of  his  acquaintance  with  her  could  he 
have  silenced  the  love  that  came  into  life  when,  as  the 
messenger  of  Salome,  he  first  beheld  the  fair  Mary  in 

118 


The  Prisoner.  119 

her  father's  tent.  It  had  become  the  ruling  cause  in 
the  soldier's  conduct,  and  now  that  there  was  an  assur- 
ance, amounting  to  certainty,  of  danger  to  her  from  the 
designs  of  Solan  Hai,  Panthera  considered  it  his  imper- 
ative duty  to  warn  her;  to  protect  her  from  the 
machinations  of  the  scoundrel,  though  the  method  of 
performing  this  office  might  present  a  problem  not 
easily  solved. 

The  information  which  he  considered  vitally  impor- 
tant to  Mary  could  not  be  imparted  to  her  without  a 
chance  of  involving,  or  evolving  a  number  of  other 
matters  which  would  be  unexplainable  without  a  revela- 
tion of  his  own  sentiments. 

He  could  not  hope  to  have  inspired  in  the  maiden's 
breast  a  feeling  akin  to  his  own  absorbing  passion  and 
to  place  her  under  an  obligation  was  not  for  a  moment 
to  be  considered. 

The  expedient  of  placing  his  suspicions  in  writing 
and  conveying  them  to  Joseph  came  to  him;  but  he 
recollected  that  all  his  information  concerning  the  ven- 
erable Jew  and  his  ward  had  been  given  by  Solan  Hai, 
and  the  Roman  doubted  much  if  the  place,  indicated  as 
their  temporary  residence,  had  ever  sheltered  them.  He 
would  find  them,  however,  and  rapidly  collecting  his 
few  possessions,  Panthera  decided  to  start  at  once,  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  the  day  was  nearly  ended. 

Securing  his  sword  and  adjusting  his  shield  he 
stepped  to  the  door; 'placing  his  hand  on  the  latch  he 
attempted,  carelessly  at  first,  to  open  it.  The  latch  lifted 
readily  but  the  door  remained  fast  shut,  resisting  his 
most  strenuous  efforts.  Nonplussed  and  dumbfounded 
he  brought  all  his  strength  to  bear,  still  it  did  not  yield. 
It  was  securely  fastened. 

"A  prisoner!"  he  exclaimed,  mechanically  drawing 


I2O  Joachim's  Daughter. 

his  sword.  "What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  act  of 
treachery?"  he  murmured  to  himself.  "It  must  be 
another  token  of  thoughtful  interest  and  solicitude 
coming  from  my  very  dear  and  disinterested  friend 
the  wizard." 

Panthera  smiled  grimly  as  he  reasoned  to  the  only 
conclusion  warranted  by  the  circumstances. 

The  house  and  its  partition  walls  were  built  of  stone 
solidly  cemented.  No  means  of  escape  presented  itself 
save  through  the  latticed  windows.  Panthera  recol- 
lected that  these  fronted  over  the  valley.  A  downward 
glance  convinced  him  that,  owing  to  their  elevation, 
a  leap  would  be  hazardous  to  life  and  limb.  He  was 
a  prisoner,  indeed,  quite  as  much  so  as  if  the  windows 
had  been  barred  with  iron. 

As  he  turned  from  the  sight  of  the  valley,  so  fat 
below,  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a  grating  noise,  as 
of  a  ponderous  body  moving  heavily.  He  was  aston- 
ished to  see  a  section  of  the  huge  stones  in  the  opposite 
wall  move  and  slowly  turn  outward  from  the  room,  a 
door  of  solid  masonry  swinging  on  stone  pivots,  pro- 
ducing but  slight  noise  for  so  weighty  a  body. 

In  spite  of  his  efforts  to  remain  cool  and  collected  a 
feeling  of  dread  took  possession  of  the  soldier.  A 
bewildering  horror  seized  him  as  he  beheld  the  open 
door  exposing  a  passageway  beyond. 

Recovering  himself  he  put  his  back  against  the  wall, 
resolved  to  sell  his  liberty,  or  his  life,  at  as  costly  a 
price  as  might  be  in  his  power.  He  waited,  in  an  atti- 
tude of  defense,  with  drawn  sword. 

Doubtless  an  enemy  had  cut  off  the  means  of  egress 
and  was  now  continuing  operations  in  this  mysterious 
manner. 

Panthera  raised  the  point  of  his  sword  in  readiness. 


The  Prisoner.  121 

Whoever  might  enter  by  this  secret  way  should  have 
cause  to  remember. 

The  door  swung  slowly  back,  and  out  of  the  gloomy 
passageway  a  woman  came  forth.  She  stood  for  a 
moment  on  the  threshold  then  advanced  into  the  room. 

It  was  Alta,  the  daughter  of  Simon  Gatzor.  She 
confronted  the  soldier  almost  haughtily. 

"Put  up  thy  sword!"  she  said;  a  trace  of  scorn  dis- 
cernable  in  voice  and  features,  as  she  recognized  the 
motive  of  Panthera's  attitude. 

The  soldier  slowly  sheathed  the  weapon.  Although 
he  had  been  in  the  same  abode  for  several  days,  the 
wondrous  beauty  of  his  host's  daughter  became  evident 
to  Panthera  for  the  first  time  as  she  uttered  the  com- 
mand. 

"Put  up  thy  sword !" 

As  she  stood  before  him  he  was  compelled  to 
acknowledge  the  power  of  her  splendid  presence  and 
queenly  bearing,  and  yet,  there  was  in  her  self-possess- 
ion a  suggestion  of  calculating  shrewdness  that  did  not 
advance  her  in  the  estimation  of  the  soldier. 

Truly  she  was  beautiful — dangerously  so,  but  the 
cold  glitter  of  her  piercing  black  eyes  denoted  an  exact- 
ing disposition  and  a  temper  cruel,  even  vindictive 
when  aroused,  strong  passion  was  depicted  in  the  splen- 
didly moulded  features. 

Panthera  intuitively  knew  she  would  be  either  a 
warm  friend  or  a  desperate  enemy.  Much  surprised  at 
seeing  her  there,  the  soldier  looked  searchingly  into 
Alta's  face  and  waited  for  her  to  speak  again. 

"Thou  art  prepared  to  leave  us?"  she  asked. 

"Quite  ready,  lady,"  replied  Panthera,  "but — " 

"I  hindered  thee,"  she  finished  for  him,  noting  his 
hesitation. 


122  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Then  I  am  thy  prisoner?'  he  questioned,  somewhat 
puzzled. 

"For  a  time,  yes.  Still  thou  mayest  go.  See !"  the 
door  that  had  resisted  Panthera's  efforts  slipped  easily 
open  leaving  no  visible  obstacle  in  the  way  of  escape. 

The  soldier  sprang  forward,  as  if  to  avail  himself  of 
the  opportunity  to  go  forth. 

"Hold!"  cried  Alta,  intercepting  him.  "I  did  but 
open  the  door  to  show  thee  my  will  and  power  to  serve 
thee.  Thou  did'st  offend  the  wizard  ?" 

"Scarce  an  hour  since,"  answered  Panthera  turning 
from  the  door. 

"I  may  not  explain  how,  nor  why,  but  I  overheard 
every  word.  Time  must  not  be  wasted.  Solan  Hai 
hates  thee.  Hate  with  him  is  the  full  equivalent  of 
murder.  Come  with  me.  In  no  other  way  can'st  thou 
hope  to  escape  disaster.  Come !"  she  cried,  and  as  the 
soldier  hesitated,  "If  not  for  thine  own  sake,  that  thou 
may'st  serve  the  innocent  and  helpless." 

Alta  stepped  within  the  shadow  of  the  dark  passagi- 
beyond  the  secret  door;  and  the  soldier,  accepting  the 
situation,  followed  his  captor  into  the  unknown  recess. 
The  scant  light  died  out  of  the  place,  as  the  stone  door 
settled  into  its  frame  and  Panthera  found  himself  in 
total  darkness.  No  sound  greeted  his  strained  ears  but 
he  knew  that  Alta  was  close  at  his  side  and  it  was  only 
a  moment  before  he  felt  the  light  touch  of  her  hand 
on  his  arm.  He  was  gently  impelled  for  a  short  distance 
along  the  unseen  path,  seeming  to  gradually  descend. 

"We  are  nearing  the  head  of  the  stairs,"  whispered 
Alta,  after  a  brief  interval.  "Have  a  care  lest  thou 
dash  thy  foot  and  fall." 

Panthera  passively  followed  his  guide  in  the  dark- 
ness and,  shuffling  carefully  forward,  soon  felt  the 


The  Prisoner.  123 

first  step.  As  they  descended  he  counted  the  steps  and 
discovered  that  sixty  of  them  measured  the  distance 
between  the  landing  and  the  floor  below,  in  all  proba~ 
bility  the  foundation  of  the  house.  Another  passage- 
way, similar  to  the  first,  led  away  from  the  foot  of 
the  stairs.  It  was  a  winding  way,  however,  and  Pan- 
thera  soon  lost  all  reckoning  of  the  direction. 

In  reality  they  were  in  a  subterranean  path  tunneled 
through  one  of  the  hills  of  Judea,  for  the  use  of  the 
Israelitish  rulers,  or  their  predecessors. 

Perfectly  familiar  with  the  way,  Alta  moved  forward 
unerringly  until  they  came  into  a  large  cave.  Having 
become  accustomed  to  the  darkness  Panthera  was  able 
to  distinguish  that  the  sides  of  this  place  had  been  con- 
structed for  security,  presenting,  as  far  as  he  could  see 
no  way  of  escape.  This  thought  was  passing  through 
his  mind  when  his  companion  spoke. 

"This  was  a  natural  cave,"  she  announced,  "from 
time  to  time  it  hath  been  enlarged  since  it  was  cemented 
and  attached  to  the  house  of  my  father.  I  am  one  of 
the  few  who  know  the  secret  of  its  hidden  door.  With 
the  knowledge  I  possess  it  can  be  opened  by  the  slight- 
est touch." 

"We  are  among  the  mountains,  are  we  not?"  inquired 
Panthera. 

"You  have  surmised  correctly,"  answered  Alta. 

"Let  us  go  hence,  I  pray  thee!"  said  Panthera  anx- 
iously. 

Alta  seated  herself  on  a  boulder. 

"Thou  must  wait  until  night  comes,  that  it  may  cover 
thy  movements,"  she  said,  quietly.  "Curb  thine  impa- 
tience. By  this  time  thine  enemy  hath  discovered  thy 
flight.  He  hath  not  forgotten,  neither  will  he  forgive." 
She  pointed  to  a  rocky  seat  of  white  stone  gleaming 


124  Joachim's  Daughter. 

vaguely  through  the  semi-darkness.  "Content  thyseli 
and  rest,"  she  continued,  "thou  shalt  depart  as  soon  as 
it  may  be  prudent.  Solan  Hai  means  thee  mischief  and 
I  am  resolved  thou  shalt  have  one  chance." 

Wondering  more  than  ever,  yet,  feeling  the  force  of 
Alta's  reasoning,  Panthera  complied  with  the  request, 
seating  himself  on  the  rock. 

"Solan  Hai  is  the  friend  of  thy  father?"  he  said 
interrogatively. 

"No !  No !  He  is  the  demon  that  overshadows  my 
father's  life,"  cried  Alta  vehemently.  "We  were  happy 
until  he  blackened  us  with  his  presence  like  a  dark  pall 
over  our  home.  Taking  advantage  of  my  father's 
inordinate  love  of  money,  the  wizard  hath  gained  com- 
plete control  of  him,  plunging  him  into  misgiving,  mis- 
anthropy and  doubt.  Under  the  blighting,  destroying 
influence  of  Solan  Hai,  my  dear,  indulgent,  loving 
father  is  no  more  himself  than  Michael,  the  great 
prince,  is  like  Solan  Hai.  I  cannot  described  the  misery 
that  has  entered  our  home  since  he  became  a  frequenter 
of  it.  He  is  a  monster  of  deceit  and  greed,  yet,  in  some 
way  he  is  connected  with  our  gain  in  wealth  and  pos- 
sessions. 

"From  being  generous,  hospitable,  considerate  and 
kind  to  his  countrymen  and  the  stranger  within  his 
gates ;  from  an  affectionate  husband  and  tender  parent ; 
from  a  loyal  citizen  of  the  commonwealth  of  Israel  and 
a  worshiper  of  the  only  true  God,  my  father  hath  turned 
to  a  creature  bereft  of  reason — except  as  he  imitates  or 
obeys  his  master — the  wizard. 

"Under  the  spell  of  his  controller  my  father  trembles 
— day  and  night — his  eyes  droop,  his  very  life  hangs  in 
doubt,  there  is  no  assurance  of  safety  from  the  power  of 
this  wretch.  In  the  morning  my  father  prays  'would 


The  Prisoner.  125 

God  it  were  evening' ;  and  at  evening,  he  cries  out  in 
anguish,  'would  God  it  were  morning.'  ' 

Alta's  voice,  ringing  with  indignation  when  she  first 
spoke  of  Solan  Hai,  died  away  in  sobs  as  she  concluded 
and  she  dashed  tears  of  helpless  anger  and  grief  from 
her  eyes. 

Whatever  may  have  been  Panthera's  apprehension 
for  himself,  he  knew  that  this  outburst  of  confidence 
was  genuine. 

"My  friend,"  he  said,  "thou  hast  the  sympathy  of 
my  soul.  I  have  been  informed  before  of  the  strange 
and  subtle  influence  exerted  by  this  man  over  his  coun- 
trymen." 

"He  uses  it  only  for  evil !"  exclaimed  Alta.  "Our 
affections  are  crushed,  my  father's  spirit  is  humbled 
and  obscured  under  the  ruinous  pressure  exerted  by 
Solan  Hai.  That  he  is  a  diviner  of  thoughts,  that  he 
can  foretell  events  and  commune  with  the  dead,  we 
no  more  doubt  than  we  do  our  existence.  And  yet — 
and  yet — my  father  does  not — cannot — break  away 
from  his  destroyer." 

"It  is  passing  strange — indeed,"  murmured  Pan- 
thera. 

"Nazareth,  in  Galilee,  is  our  native  city.  We  lived 
there,  in  moderate  circumstances  until  a  short  time  ago. 
Then  the  wizard  crossed  the  path  of  my  father.  We 
came  to  this  place  at  the  behest — yes,  command  of 
Solan  Hai.  We  are  now  increased  in  goods,  rich — in 
want  of  nothing.  My  father  is  the  slave  of  this  man, 
obeys  his  slightest  wish ;  stoops  to  the  basest  crimes 
and  offenses  against  his  countrymen.  But  thou,"  recol- 
lecting herself  suddenly,  "thou  art  not  interested  in 
our  sorrows,  and  I  would  not  have  thee  think  I  sought 
to  betray  or  injure  my  father." 


126  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"I  am  interested,  dear  lady,"  answered  Panthera 
warmly.  "I  could  not  doubt  thy  loyalty  to  the  best 
interest  of  thy  father.  I  would  cheerfully  assist  thee. 
Tell  me,  is  there  aught  thy  poor  servant  could  do  to 
render  aid  to  thee  or  thine  ?" 

"Alas;  no,"  answered  Alta  sadly.  "I  only  wonder 
why  I  have  thus  intruded  upon  thy  good  nature  and 
made  thee  listen  to  my  story  of  deceit  and  misery." 

"Confessions  relieve  the  over-burdened  heart,"  said 
Panthera,  scarcely  knowing  how  to  best  answer  this 
proud  woman,  who  might  resent  the  very  sympathy 
she  seemed  to  court. 

"Hearts  break,  rather  than  make  them!"  she 
exclaimed  passionately.  "I  pray  thee  to  forget 
this  conversation." 

"Thy  wishes  are  commands,"  replied  the  soldier, 
"but— " 

"No  more,"  Alta  rose  to  her  feet.  "Thou  would'st 
find  the  Jewish  maiden,  Mary,  the  daughter  of 
Joachim.  Tell  me — thou  may'st  trust  me — dost  thou 
love  her?" 

Through  the  dim  light  of  the  cave  Panthera  knew 
that  the  dark  eyes  of  Alta  were  striving  to  read  his  face. 
He  did  not  attempt  to  fathom  so  deep  a  thing  as  the 
reason  for  the  imperative  question,  but  answered  unhesi- 
tatingly, without  equivocation. 

"I  do ;  I  love  her  more  than  life." 

The  voice,  that  had  held  a  charm  for  Mary  when 
first  she  listened  to  its  music,  grew  unspeakably  sweet 
as  Panthera  made  this  solemn  affirmation. 

The  woman  before  him  shivered  as  though  with 
sudden  cold.  Her  firm  fingers  grasped  the  hard  stone 
"before  her  as  Alta  fought  for  control  of  herself.  The 
deepening  shadows  hid  from  her  companion  the  deathly 


The  Prisoner.  *  127 

pallor  that  whitened  her  face,  but  her  voice  did  not 
falter  as  she  answered  softly. 

"It  is  enough.    Alta  will  be  thy  friend." 

She  turned  from  the  soldier,  touched  a  contrivance, 
and  instantly  a  part  of  the  wall  swung  inward  revealing 
an  aperture  sufficiently  large  to  admit  of  their  passing 
into  the  open  air. 

"It  is  early  yet  in  the  night.  If  thou  wilt  remain  in 
the  cave,  thy  servant  will  return  to  the  house,  discover 
if  thou  art  pursued  and  deliver  to  thee  the  information 
she  may  be  able  to  gather,"  said  Alta,  when  they  had 
gained  the  outside. 

"Thou  shalt  trouble  thyself  no  farther.  I  know  of 
no  words  that  can  express  to  thee  my  thankfulness  for 
this  deliverance.  I  fear  danger  to  thee  through  thy 
friendship  for  a  stranger.  Leave  me  and  return  to  thy 
father  that  thy  presence  may  comfort  him." 

Panthera  extended  his  hand  toward  his  companion. 
She  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  action. 

"Thou  would'st  have  small  cause  for  gratitude  did  I 
but  guide  thee  into  this  wilderness  and  leave  thee,"  she 
replied.  "Thou  art  thoughtful,  but  I  fear  no  danger, 
care  not  if  it  threaten  me.  Still  thou  need'st  not  alarm 
thyself.  I  have  planned  for  my  own  absence.  I  tell  thee 
I  can  supply  horses  and  lead  thee  to  the  abode  of  Mary 
and  her  kinsman,  Joseph.  Would  such  a  service  be  a 
pleasure  to  thee?" 

"Could  I  but  be  assured  that  harm  would  not  befall 
thee,  nothing  would  be  more  acceptable  to  me," 
answered  Panthera,  hope  springing  anew  within  him. 

"Remain  where  thou  art  until  I  return,"  commanded 
Alta,  moving  quickly  toward  the  cave. 

Panthera  would  have  stopped  her  but  she  fled  into 
the  passage,  disappearing  instantly  from  his  sight. 


128  Joachim's  Daughter. 

From  the  shelter  of  the  rocks  the  Roman  looked 
away  across  the  intervening  valley  to  where  the  lights 
of  the  town  gleamed  through  latticed  windows.  Under 
the  cool,  gray  summer  sky  he  stood  thoughtfully  consid- 
ering the  strange  adventures  of  his  last  few  days. 

Time  grew  long  to  him  and  a  lurking  suspicion  as  to 
the  sincerity  of  Alta's  professed  friendship  filled  his 
mind  with  distrust.  Was  it  not  more  than  likely  that 
he  had  been  led  here  for  some  foul  purpose.  The  shadow 
of  any  rock  might  be  a  resting  place  for  one  of  Solan 
Hai's  bandits.  In  his  inmost  heart  the  soldier  believed 
that  the  wizard  was  responsible  for  the  raid  at  the  camp 
of  Joachim  and  the  subsequent  horrors.  Yet  he  felt 
confident  of  his  own  strength  to  resist  an  enemy,  and 
resolved  to  wait  a  reasonable  while  for  the  fulfillment 
of  Alta's  promise.  He  found  himself  growing  certain 
that  she  would  redeem  it. 

Seating  himself  near  the  cave  entrance  he  allowed  his 
mind  to  dwell  on  the  object  most  dear  to  his  heart.  A 
flood  of  tender  recollections  excluded  all  thought  of 
danger.  He  dreamed  of  the  beautiful  Jewish  maiden ; 
her  image  filled  his  mind,  leaving  no  room  for  ought 
else,  until  he  was  aroused  from  his  reverie  by  the  sound 
of  galloping  horses. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HABABLI  HILLEL. 

From  the  cave  entrance  Panthera  walked  forth  into 
the  starlight  night  and  the  violet  atmosphere  of  the 
balmy  eastern  clime  caressed  his  brow  as  he  pushed  the 
heavy  curling  locks  from  about  his  face. 

Advancing  with  swift  steps  in  the  direction  from 
whence  the  sound  had  proceeded,  the  soldier  beheld 
Alta,  superbly  mounted,  leading  a  splendid  horse  by 
the  bridle-rein. 

She  guided  her  horse  to  where  Panthera  stood.  In  a 
masterful  way  she  relinquished  her  hold  of  the  extra 
horse,  indicating  that  the  soldier  should  mount. 

"I  shall  everlastingly  be  thy  debtor,"  he  exclaimed, 
springing  into  the  saddle. 

"Mention  it  not,"  she  said  softly,  a  tremble  breaking 
through  the  hitherto  firm  voice.  "The  wizard  hath 
discovered  thy  flight ;  he  is  in  a  towering  rage,  let  us  be 
away,  for,  I  tell  thee  truly,  thou  hast  no  time  to  waste." 

The  intrepid  woman  led  the  way.  Without  hesitancy 
the  soldier  followed.  Alta  did  not  halt  or  speak.  Unac- 
customed to  self-denial  she  fought  fiercely  against  the 
temptation  to  try  if  she  could  not  win  for  herself  some 
expression  of  interest  from  this  man ;  she  did  not  even 
give  Panthera  opportunity  to  address  her,  but,  setting 
her  face  resolutely  forward,  she  rode  at  a  brisk  trot 
until  a  modest  habitation  was  reached.  Here  she  paused 
and  allowed  her  companion  to  come  alongside. 

129 


130  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  wilt  find  the  ones  thou  seekest  at  this  place," 
said  Alta,  with  a  studied  carelessness  that  might  have 
betrayed  her  secret  to  one  less  preoccupied  than  the 
soldier. 

Since  Mary  had  vanished  from  his  view  on  the  day 
of  her  father's  death,  her  rescuer  had  not  beheld  the 
maid.  She  had  never  been  absent  from  his  thoughts; 
waking  or  sleeping  he  had  dwelt  in  a  land  of  dreams — 
alone  with  his  love — now  that  he  might  be  near  her, 
might  enter  her  abode  at  will,  he  found  himself 
strangely  diffident,  felt  that  his  presence  in  a  place, 
made  sacred  because  it  sheltered  her,  amounted  to  pre- 
sumption. To  face  a  desperate  foe  would  have  been  a 
matter  of  comparative  indifference  and  little  fear;  to 
come  before  the  woman  he  loved  was  an  entirely  differ- 
ent matter.  He  glanced  helplessly  toward  Alta. 

"I  would  add  to  the  obligation  I  am  already  under 
and  detain  thee,"  he  said  confusedly.  "Thou  knowest 
the  peculiarities  of  the  Israelites.  In  this  matter,  let 
me  confess,  I  have  become  strangely  embarrassed." 

"Hospitality  is  one  of  their  characteristics,"  replied 
Alta,  understanding  that  Panthera  had  not  considered 
his  excuse  for  thus  disturbing  Joseph  and  his  ward. 
"Fear  not,  the  stranger  is  never  turned  from  their  door. 
Thou  wilt  be  received  with  hearty  welcome."  She  leaned 
forward  and  for  an  instant,  through  the  dusk  Panthera 
saw  her  glowing  eyes.  "I  can  serve  thee  no  further," 
she  said,  almost  wistfully. 

With  this  she  tightened  the  rein,  the  next  moment 
the  soldier  was  listening  to  the  retreating  hoof-beats  of 
Alta's  horse.  This  sound  soon  ceased  and,  dismounting, 
Panthera  made  his  way  slowly  and  thoughtfully  toward 
the  house.  He  kept  the  bridle  rein  over  his  arm,  and, 
with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  knocked  on  the  lintel. 


Hababli  Hillel.  131 

A  light  within  moved  past  the  window  and  a  woman 
opened  the  door.  Shading  the  light  with  her  hand,  she 
peered  out  into  the  night. 

"Whom  dost  thou  seek?"  she  inquired,  as  her  gaze 
met  the  form  of  Panthera. 

"I  would  find  Joseph  and  his  ward,"  answered  Pan- 
thera. "Do  they  sojourn  beneath  this  roof?" 

"Yea,"  answered  the  matron,  promptly.  "Wilt  thou 
enter?"  she  moved  aside  as  if  to  let  him  pass,  but,  seeing 
the  horse,  paused  again.  "The  servant  will  care  for 
thine  animal,"  she  said,  and  went  from  the  door. 

Very  soon  a  man  approached  from  the  side  pathway 
leading  round  the  house.  He  respectfully  bowed  to 
Panthera,  notwithstanding  the  darkness.  The  matron 
again  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Thou  wilt  tarry  over  night  with  us?"  she  said 
inquiringly. 

"I  bring  important  information  for  Joseph.  I  would 
be  pleased  to  remain  until  the  morning,  did  it  not  tres- 
pass too  much  upon  thy  hospitality,"  replied  Panthera, 
as  he  allowed  the  man  to  take  the  horse  away. 

The  woman  led  Panthera  within  a  commodious 
apartment.  Saying  that  she  would  call  her  other  guests, 
she  passed  from  the  room  leaving  him  to  his  own 
thoughts. 

Entirely  unacquainted  with  Joseph,  remembering  the 
quiet  disapproval  of  manner  with  which  her  kinsman 
had  looked  on  Mary's  guileless  preference  for  a 
stranger,  in  her  hour  of  grief  and  bereavement,  the 
soldier  found  himself  unable  to  frame  in  his  mind  a 
suitable  greeting. 

This  need  not  have  troubled  him,  for  Joseph  was 
above  the  harboring  of  malice  and  when  the  kindly  Jew 


132  Joachim's  Daughter. 

at  last  entered  the  room  he  brought  with  him  Mary 
herself.  . 

The  wild-rose  face  was  more  pale  than  its  wont  and 
Panthera  noticed  with  quick  pity  the  grieved  lines  about 
the  tender  mouth. 

With  grave  courtesy  Joseph  acknowledged  the 
salutations  of  the  soldier,  but  his  curiosity  as  to  the 
cause  of  the  visit  was  apparent  and  Panthera  plunged 
at  once  into  the  subject. 

Keeping  back  all  mention  of  Solan  Hai's  scheme  for 
forcibly  carrying  the  maid  away,  the  offer  of  ships  and 
money,  Panthera  related  so  much  of  the  occurrences  of 
the  last  few  days  as  he  deemed  sufficient  to  place  them 
on  guard  against  the  designs  of  Herod. 

Joseph  and  Mary  listened  with  interest  and  concern 
to  the  narrative. 

"If  what  thou  dost  surmise  be  true,"  spoke  Joseph, 
"what  would'st  thou  suggest?" 

"I  have  a  friend,  who  is  very  near  to  Herod.  We 
may  appeal  to  him  and  be  assured  of  wise  advice  and 
assistance,"  replied  Panthera. 

"Would  thy  friend  be  able  to  protect  the  child  against 
such  powerful  odds?"  questioned  the  guardian,  in  evi- 
dent consternation. 

"If  he  be  not,  there  is  no  help  short  of  Rome,"  was 
the  decided  reply. 

"Rome!"  exclaimed  Joseph.  Augustus  seemed  so 
far  off.  "The  name  of  thy  friend  ?" 

"Hababli  Hillel,  the  elder,  a  devout  man,  a  man  of 
God,  whom  all  Jerusalem  loves,  and  Herod  fears," 
answered  Panthera. 

"He  is  thy  friend !"  Joseph's  surprise  was  manifest 
in  his  voice. 

"Hillel  is  not  only  the  friend  of  thy  poor  servant,  he 


Hababli  Hillel.  133 

is,  also,  the  friend  of  all  mankind,"  said  Panthera,  in 
proud  reverence  as  he  spoke  of  one  who  had  been  his 
benefactor. 

"Thou  hast  truly  spoken,"  acquiesced  Joseph.  "The 
priest  is  the  Moses  of  his  countrymen."  He  turned  to 
Mary.  She  had  asked  no  question  but  her  tightly 
clasped  hands  spoke  oi  her  anxiety  and  fear.  "Thou 
wilt  be  safe  in  the  protection  of  Hillel.  He  shall  know 
all,  my  child." 

"The  seer  is  now  sojourning  at  his  retreat  near 
Bethel,"  said  Panthera.  "Could  we  not  repair  there  on 
the  morrow  ?" 

Mary  rose,  as  if  she  would  have  spoken  eager 
approval  of  the  suggestion,  but  Joseph  laid  a  restraining 
hand  upon  her. 

"Panthera,"  he  began,  "I  had  thought  to  find  myseh' 
ever  able  to  guide  and  protect  this  child,  committed  to 
my  care,  but  thou  art  a  man  full  of  resources.  Thou 
dost  anticipate  danger  only  to  avoid  and  turn  it  away. 
Thou  hast  earned  the  right  to  direct  our  movements. 
We  are  most  grateful  for  thy  concern  in  our  welfare. 
Let  us  depart  from  this  place  with  the  rising  of  the  sun. 
Daughter  of  the  Lord,  thou  must  retire." 

Joseph  would  have  drawn  Mary  from  the  room  in  an 
endeavor  to  keep  up  a  reserve,  consistent  with  his  own 
austere  training,  between  the  fair  maiden  under  his 
charge  and  her  soldier  champion. 

But  Mary  turned  to  Panthera,  her  whole  attitude  an 
unconscious  confession  that  frightened  Joseph. 

"Good-night!"  she  said,  extending  her  hand  to  the 
grasp  of  Panthera.  "Thou  hast  saved  me  out  of  dan- 
ger and  in  my  trials  thou  hast  brought  me  blessing. 
Remember,  thou  did'st  tell  me  to  trust  the  God  of 
Israel" — the  sweet  voice  faltered  and  Joseph  bowed  his 


134  Joachim's  Daughter. 

head.  "I  know  the  man  whom  thou  hast  mentioned," 
she  went  on,  recovering  her  composure,  "he  was  the 
friend  of  my  father.  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  thee  for 
putting  it  into  our  hearts  to  seek  his  counsel  and  advice. 
I  will  be  glad  to  accompany  thee  to  Bethel." 

"And  I,  also,"  responded  Joseph,  looking  after  the 
maiden  as  she  went  from  the  room. 

Panthera  bent  low,  reverently  waiting  for  the  sound 
of  her  light  footfalls  to  die  away.  He  raised  his  eyes 
and  met  the  direct  gaze  of  Joseph  penetrating  his  very 
thoughts. 

"The  maid  is  fair,"  said  Joseph,  as  if  communing 
with  himself. 

"The  most  lovely  I  have  ever  looked  upon." 

Panthera  spoke  softly,  but  his  eyes  were  brilliant, 
and  his  face  flushed  with  pleasure. 

Joseph  grew  ashy  pale,  yet,  he  conducted  the  guest 
to  the  chamber  door  and  bade  him  good-night  with 
steady  composure. 

Anxious  solicitude  for  the  future  drove  sleep  from 
the  eyes  of  Mary's  guardian  and  his  night  brought  no 
rest.  Panthera,  too,  lay  through  the  long  hours  alert 
and  dwelling  thoughtfully  on  the  future. 

The  day  dawned,  perfect  as  though  heaven  smiled  on 
the  contemplated  journey.  A  full  day's  travel  lay  before 
them.  The  morning  meal  was  eaten  in  silence;  fare- 
wells were  said ;  the  prayer  for  safety  uttered ;  and  the 
little  company  was  well  on  its  way  at  the  rising  of 
the  sun. 

Another  heartbreak  awaited  Mary  on  the  way,  for 
they  must  stop  at  the  camp  where  Joachim  had  enter- 
tained his  learned  visitors. 

They  found  the  servants  waiting.  The  cumbersome 
equipment  had  been  stored  at  the  home  of  a  friendly 


Hababli  Hillel.  135 

neighbor.  The  horse  of  the  dead  bandit  was  still  held, 
with  scant  chance  of  claim  being  entered  for  him  from 
relatives  or  associates  of  the  former  owner. 

The  loan  of  an  ass  for  burden  bearer  and  of  another 
horse  for  the  servants  was  quickly  secured  and  the 
two  men  were  instructed  to  proceed,  at  their  leisure,  to 
the  home  of  Joseph  at  Nazareth  in  Galilee. 

Mary  lingered  about  the  deserted  camp,  the  sacred 
spot  of  hallowed  memories.  She  grew  sad  and 
despondent;  in  spite  of  her  effort  to  restrain  them  the 
tears  stole  over  her  cheeks  and  she  turned  from  her 
companions  to  hide  her  grief.  Without  appearing  to 
notice  her  distress,  Panthera  hastened  their  departure. 
His  thoughtfulness  did  not  escape  her  observation,  it 
was  another  link  in  the  chain  that  bound  her  heart  to 
him. 

They  traveled  the  same  road  Panthera  had  journeyed 
over  in  the  night  as  Salome's  messenger,  but  the  dark- 
ness had  hidden  the  beauty  of  the  country  so  that  he 
had  no  conception  of  it. 

In  pleasing  contrast  to  the  deep  red  and  yellow  soil 
of  the  valleys,  their  shrubs  and  grasses  mingled  with 
patches  of  variegated  flowers,  rose  the  stony  hills  in 
ever  changing  views.  Giant  trees,  their  gnarled  roots 
springing  from  among  the  stones  at  the  wayside, 
assisted  materially  in  giving  expression  to  the  land- 
scape. Stone  houses,  with  projecting  roofs,  were  built 
into  the  hillsides,  and,  at  a  distance,  appeared  to  be  con- 
structed one  above  the  other.  Far  over  valleys  and 
sloping  heights  spread  large,  stone-walled  fields  and 
vineyards — all  imparting  nature's  good  cheer  to  the 
travelers. 

They  rested  for  a  time  near  the  grave  of  Rachel,  nigh 
unto  Bethlehem,  then  pushed  on  leaving  Jerusalem  to 


136  Joachim's  Daughter. 

the  east  and  arriving  in  the  vicinity  of  their  destination 
shortly  before  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 

The  humble  abode  of  Hababli  Hillel  was  situated  a 
short  distance  from  Bethel,  toward  Jerusalem.  To  this 
place  the  priest  withdrew  when  in  need  of  rest.  He 
was  a  man  full  of  years,  ripe  in  experience,  and  familiar 
with  the  ways  of  men.  A  room  facing  the  highway 
afforded  him  a  place  for  study  and  the  reception  of 
visitors. 

Here  the  great  teacher  of  his  time  gave  audience  to 
those  who  sought  his  counsel ;  here  he  was  at  home  to 
any  and  all.  His  open,  venerable  face  invited  confi- 
dence; his  learning  commanded  respect;  universal 
knowledge  of  his  kindly,  loving  disposition  made  him 
the  receptacle  for  the  woes  of  his  countrymen.  His 
power  was  often  felt  in  the  defense  of  the  innocent  and 
weak  and  his  ear  was  ever  open  to  the  cry  of  distress. 
Having  suffered  himself,  he  understood  how  to  succor 
and  sympathize  with  those  who  might  be  called  upon 
to  suffer.  Men  of  all  nations  were  welcome  and  found 
it  pleasant  to  worship  at  the  same  shrine  with  this 
remarkable  scholar  and  lover  of  men. 

More  than  an  hundred  years  had  passed  since  his 
birth,  yet,  was  he  not  bent  with  age,  nor  was  he  decrepit 
in  mind.  His  beard  and  hair  were  like  wool,  as  white 
as  snow,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with  an  expression  of 
tender  benevolence  and  interest.  His  white,  priestly 
robe  reached  to  the  ground  and  was  girt  about  his  waist 
with  a  linen  girdle.  His  head,  hands  and  feet  were 
uncovered. 

Tall  and  of  commanding  figure,  his  skin  was  clear 
and  clean,  the  classic  features  inclined  to  sharpness,  but 
singularly  free  from  wrinkles  for  one  of  so  great  an 
age. 


Hababli  Hillel.  137 

He  was  reputed  to  be,  not  only  a  philosopher  and 
seer,  sage  and  diviner  of  thoughts  and  foreteller  of 
events  but,  also,  the  greatest,  most  wonderful,  of  living 
teachers. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  when  Joseph's  little 
party  were  nearing  his  abode,  Hillel  sat  in  his  plainly 
furnished  room,  which  was  void  of  ornament,  but 
scrupulously  clean.  Before  him,  and  at  his  side,  tables 
had  been  placed.  The  one  before  him  bore  writing 
materials  and  rolls  of  papyrus,  on  the  other  were  his 
turban  and  his  tunic. 

A  bench,  worn  smooth  by  continual  use,  reached 
around  two  sides  of  the  room  and  a  few  foot-stools 
completed  the  conveniences  of  the  apartment.  A  large 
latticed  window  allowed  a  flood  of  light  to  enter. 

With  light  steps  a  Jewish  maiden  came  to  the  side 
of  Hillel.  She  placed  on  the  table  a  branched  candle- 
stick and  a  tray  with  snuffers.  He  did  not  look  up  and 
she  waited  silently. 

"Well,  Martha,  thou  art  ever  thoughtful.  Thank 
thee  child,"  said  Hillel  at  last,  and  he  glanced  fondly  at 
the  maiden  standing  before  him,  as  he  roused  himself 
from  a  reverie. 

"Strangers  are  approaching,"  Martha  announced. 
"I  saw  them  when  I  was  in  the  garden  but  a  moment 
ago ;  I  believe  they  are  coming  here  for  I  watched  the 
one  in  advance  as  he  pointed  toward  our  house." 

"How  many  were  there,  child?"  asked  Hillel  indul- 
gently. 

"Three  persons — two  men  and  a  woman — they  are 
all  mounted  and  coming  this  way,"  she  replied. 

Hillel  took  his  turban  from  the  table  and  started 
across  the  room. 

"Delay  the  evening  meal,"  he  directed.    "They  may 


138  Joachim's  Daughter. 

be  hungered  and  athirst.  I  will  go  hence  and  meet 
them,"  and  he  quitted  the  apartment. 

The  travelers  had  halted  at  the  gate.  Lifting  his 
staff  from  its  place  near  the  door  Hillel  went  forward 
and  immediately  recognized  the  foremost  of  the  trio. 

"Panthera  of  the  German  guard,  thou  art  welcome, 
my  son !"  he  exclaimed  warmly.  "And  this  is  Joseph, 
of  Nazareth,  if  I  mistake  not." 

Joseph  clasped  the  hand  of  the  priest  and  led  him  to 
where  Mary  modestly  waited. 

"This  is  Mary,  the  child  of  our  kinsman,  Joachim. 
She  hath  come  to  seek  thy  care  and  protection,"  spoke 
the  guardian. 

"Did  her  father  send  her  hither?"  questioned  Hillel. 

"Her  father  is  dead,"  said  Joseph  sadly.  "He  sleeps 
near  Hebron." 

Hillel  lifted  his  hand  in  tribute  to  the  grief  of  the 
orphan  maiden. 

"Thou  art  welcome,"  he  said,  "Come  my  child, 
Martha  will  make  thee  comfortable  and  at  home.  She 
is  about  thine  own  age." 

Taking  Mary  gently  by  the  arm  he  guided  her 
toward  the  path  leading  to  the  house,  while  Panthera 
and  Joseph  followed,  after  securing  the  horses. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  MIGHTY  PRECEPTS. 

Martha,  grand-daughter  of  Hillel,  was  well  versed 
in  the  art  of  entertaining.  Constantly  called  upon  to 
minister  to  the  needs  of  many  guests,  she  had  acquired 
ease  and  skill  in  such  matters  and  her  winsome  ways 
soon  placed  Mary  at  rest. 

"I  pray  thee  allow  me  speech  with  thee  alone,"  Pan- 
thera  managed  to  whisper  as  he  passed  close  to  Hillel  on 
entering  the  supper  room. 

The  great  teacher  bent  his  head  affirmatively  and 
the  interchange  of  word  and  sign  escaped  the  notice 
of  Joseph. 

The  substantial  evening  meal  was  enjoyed  by  the 
family  of  Hillel  and  his  guests.  The  affections  of 
Mary  went  out  to  Martha  and  between  the  two  young 
women  a  friendly  sympathy  induced  mutual  con- 
fidences. They  went  away  to  Martha's  own  apartment, 
soon  after  the  meal,  leaving  the  men  to  discuss  the 
theme  uppermost  in  their  minds. 

Joseph  related  the  cause  of  their  visit  briefly  while 
the  seer  noted  all  the  details  of  the  narrative  closely. 

"Then  it  is  your  opinion  that  Solan  Hai,  with  the 
connivance  of  the  king,  will  seize  the  patrimony  of 
Mary?"  observed  Hillel  as  Joseph  finished. 

The  latter  did  not  reply,  but  turned  toward  Panthera, 
who  answered  impulsively. 

189 


140  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"There  seems  to  be  no  room  for  doubt  of  his  inten- 
tions in  this  respect." 

"To  my  mind  there  are  some  important  links  missing, 
before  I  would  say  'without  a  doubt,'  "  said  Hillel.  "We 
know  Solan  Hai  to  be  without  fear  or  compunction 
and  none  too  good  for  such  an  undertaking.  May  not 
this  knowledge  be  the  father  of  our  suspicions  ?" 

The  philosopher  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  soldier, 
who,  knowing  more  than  he  had  told,  flushed  hotly  in 
spite  of  himself.  Joseph  sided  with  Hillel,  seeming 
actually  pleased  to  turn  the  matter  against  Panthera, 
and  replied. 

"I  fear  that  I  have  been  too  much  influenced  by  the 
enthusiasm  of  our  friend  here,  although  he  has  shown 
much  discretion.  I  have  been  thinking,  as  we  rode 
along,  that  perhaps  we  have  nothing  to  fear;  that  our 
suspicions  may  be  an  injustice  to  the  wizard.  'Tis 
so  easy  to  'make  much  of  little.' ' 

Hillel  saw  the  wave  of  color,  that  reddened  the  face 
of  the  Roman,  remembered  the  request  for  private 
speech  and  guessed  that  Joseph  knew  not  all  the  facts. 
He  thought  best  not  to  provoke  discussion,  at  this  time, 
however,  and  tactfully  replied : 

"Thou  art  entirely  right,  Joseph,  we  should  be  slow 
to  think  evil  and,  above  all,  we  should  be  well  advised 
of  all  the  facts  before  we  enter  an  adverse  judgment 
against  any  man.  To  this  thou  wilt  agree,  Panthera  ?" 
and  he  turned  his  benign  look  full  upon  the  soldier. 

"With  all  my  heart,"  was  the  quick  reply,  "but,  I 
trust  thou  wilt  not  doubt  my  sincerity?" 

"By  no  means,"  cried  Joseph,  feeling  that  he  had 
spoken  unkindly  and  forstalling  the  priest  who  would 
have  answered,  "but — " 

"For  the  present,  trust  thy  servant,"  said  Panthera, 


The  Mighty  Precepts.  141 

who  had  fully  regained  his  composure.  "There  are 
some  things  I  may  not  tell  thee,  Joseph,  but  I  believe 
that  Solan  Hai  knows  more  about  the  outrage  at  the 
camp  of  Joachim,  and  the  abduction,  than  he  would 
care  to  reveal." 

"Caution  would  be  wisdom  in  this  matter,"  said  the 
priest.  "For  a  while,  let  the  young  woman  remain  at 
this  place.  Martha  will  be  a  sister  to  her,  and  we  may 
expect  developments,  in  a  short  time,  that  will  throw 
light  on  the  actions  and  intentions  of  the  wizard." 

"Had  there  been  no  danger,  Salome  would  not  have 
sent  the  warning — you  may  depend  upon  that,"  inter- 
posed Panthera,  somewhat  warmly. 

"Coupled  with  the  fact  that  the  king  is  constantly  in 
need  of  money  to  support  his  unnecessary  extravagance, 
and  the  singularly  malevolent  influence  exerted  by  the 
wizard  over  the  king  and  the  people,  we  may  be  par- 
doned if  we  regard  his  recent  conduct  with  suspicion. 
There  can  be  no  denying  the  reliability  of  Salome.  Thou 
art  right  Panthera." 

The  priest  delivered  this  opinion  with  thoughtful 
slowness  and  Joseph  did  not  fail  to  see  the  force  of  it. 
He  readily  agreed  to  the  suggestion  in  regard  to  the 
detention  of  Mary  in  the  seclusion  of  Hillel's  retreat, 
and  intimated  that,  on  the  morrow,  they  would  complete 
arrangements  for  outwitting  the  wizard. 

Hillel  arose  at  this  and  conducted  Joseph  from  the 
room,  that  he  might  retire  and  recover  from  the 
fatigue  of  the  day's  journey. 

With  head  bowed  and  anxiety  written  on  every  fea- 
ture Panthera  waited  for  the  return  of  the  priest.  Hillel 
lingered  silently,  at  the  entrance  of  the  room,  studying 
the  attitude  of  his  beloved  pupil — for  such  Panthera 


142  Joachim's  Daughter. 

had  been — then  he  moved  forward  to  a  place  at  the  side 
of  the  soldier. 

"Confide  in  me,"  he  said,  fixing  his  luminous  eyes 
upon  the  face  of  his  guest.  "Keep  nothing  back  I  pray 
thee." 

Thus  admonished,  the  soldier  recounted  his  adven- 
tures since  leaving  Jerusalem  at  the  request  of  Salome, 
until  the  arrival  at  this  refuge. 

The  priest  was  an  attentive  listener,  not  only  to  the 
story  of  the  defense  of  the  maid  and  the  struggle  for 
her  protection,  but  to  the  acknowledgment  of  the  over- 
whelming, passionate  love  for  the  beautiful  Mary  that 
possessed  the  heart  of  the  speaker.  Hillel  made  no 
remark  or  interruption,  but  gave  ear  with  patience  and 
interest  to  every  detail. 

"Thou  art  not  mistaken,"  Hillel  said,  as  Panthera 
paused.  "Solan  Hai  means  mischief  to  the  child.  We 
must  protect  her.  Thou,  also,  must  be  circumspect  and 
cautious.  For  the  time  being,  both  thee  and  she  must 
remain  here  while  I  attempt  the  discovery  of  the 
wizard's  plans  at  Jerusalem.  Answer  me  truly,  hast 
thou  mentioned  thy  love  to  the  maiden?" 

Panthera  looked  reproachfully  at  Hillel. 

"Not  so  much  as  a  whisper,"  he  answered.  "Could 
I  do  such  a  thing  at  such  a  time?" 

"I  did  not  think  it  of  thee,  Panthera,  for  it  would 
not  have  been  the  part  of  an  honorable  man.  Thou 
must  know  that  our  people  are  exclusive.  They  do  not 
favor,  I  may  say  allow,  their  sons  or  daughters  to 
take  to  themselves  husbands,  or  wives,  from  among  the 
nations  about  them.  Were  her  father  living,  thou 
could'st  never  gain  his  consent  to  thy  marriage  with 
his  daughter.  Joachim,  like  thy  teacher,  was  a  lineal 
descendant  of  the  house  of  David.  From  this  descent 


The  Mighty  Precepts.  143 

shall  come  the  Messiah."  Hillel's  voice  grew  solemn; 
his  features  lighted  with  hope.  "Out  of  Judah  shall 
come  the  deliverer;  the  one  who  will  turn  ungodliness 
away  from  Jacob." 

The  priest  pronounced  this  prophecy,  dear  to  every 
Jewish  heart,  with  deliberate  emphasis,  calculated  to 
impress  Panthera  with  the  presumption  of  his  love. 

"Thou  hast  condescended  to  speak  of  these  things 
to  thy  friend  and  pupil  on  other  occasions,"  answered 
Panthera  reverently.  "Still,  may  I  not  hope." 

"Alas,"  answered  Hillel,  grieved  for  the  wound  he 
felt  compelled  to  give.  "It  is  impossible  that  thou 
should' st  ever  realize  thy  hope.  The  maid,  herself, 
would  be  too  true  to  her  inborn  Israelitish  faith,  to 
entertain  even  the  thought  of  love  from  an  alien  and  a 
stranger.  She  must  esteem  thee  highly,  and  honor 
thee  for  the  grace  of  manhood  displayed  in  all  thy  ways, 
but,  beware,  my  son,  no  good  hath  ever  come  from  such 
an  alliance.  It  is  against  the  strict  injunctions  of  our 
law  and  is  invariably  punished  as  a  sin.  Tempt  it  not, 
oh,  my  friend." 

"How  can  I  consider  these  things !"  cried  his  listener, 
vehemently.  "I  have  looked  into  her  eyes  and  seen 
there  the  mirror  of  my  own  soul — her  answer  to  the 
yearnings  of  my  own  heart.  I  dare  not  say  that  she 
loves  me,  yet,  there  is  some  subtle  influence  reaching 
from  soul  to  soul,  that  draws  us  irrevocably  together. 
My  arms  have  held  her;  in  her  distress  she  ran  to  me 
and  her  head  rested  on  my  bosom.  An  hundred  little 
things  have  told  me  a  story,  the  sweetness  of  which  I 
never  knew  before  from  woman  kind." 

Hillel  drew  closer  to  the  speaker  as  he  thus  daringly 
expressed  himself. 

"Rash  man !"  The  priest's  tone  vibrated  with  pitying 


144  Joachim's  Daughter. 

intensity.  "I  tell  thee,  it  must  not  be — it  cannot  be. 
Let  me  inform  thee  of  some  things  which  it  is  right 
thou  should'st  know.  Joachim  was  abundantly  blessed 
in  all  his  wordly  possessions ;  the  owner  of  large  flocks 
of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle.  He  had  lived,  with  his 
wife,  at  the  city  of  Nazareth,  in  Galilee,  for  the  space 
of  twenty  years,  or  more,  in  chastity ;  in  the  favor  and 
the  esteem  of  their  neighbors.  Their  lives  were  plain 
and  right;  they  were  pious  and  without  fault;  made 
large  offerings  to  the  officers  of  the  temple,  and  distri- 
buted an  abundance  of  gifts  among  strangers  and  per- 
sons in  poor  circumstances,  yet,  were  they  childless. 
Among  the  people  of  this  nation  this  condition  is  con- 
sidered not  only  a  sore  affliction,  but  a  curse  as  well. 

"Year  after  year  they  went  up  to  Jerusalem  and  made 
offerings  in  the  temple  of  the  Lord.  And  Anna,  the 
wife  of  Joachim,  grieved  bitterly  and  made  this  matter 
the  subject  of  many  prayers  and  much  fasting;  as  did 
also  her  husband. 

"Now  it  came  to  pass  at  one  time,  when  Issachar  was 
high  priest,  that  Joachim  appeared  among  his  neigh- 
bors, who  had  been  blessed  with  children,  as  was  his 
wont,  at  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem,  and  the  high-priest, 
together  with  these  people,  joined  in  heaping  reproaches 
upon  the  head  of  Joachim,  so  that  he  fled  from  their 
presence  in  grief  and  shame. 

"Then  it  was,  that  he  and  his  wife,  Anna,  vowed,  if 
God  would  favor  them  with  issue,  let  it  be  male  or 
female,  they  would  devote  it  wholly  to  the  service  of 
the  Lord. 

"Time  passed.  The  Lord  heard  their  cry,  he  beheld 
their  trouble  and  answered  their  prayer.  A  child  was 
born  unto  them  and  they  called  her  name  Mary.  When 
the  child  was  weaned  and  three  years  of  age,  they 


The  Mighty  Precepts.  145 

brought  her  to  the  temple  and  dedicated  her  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Lord,  as  they  had  vowed.  From  her  youth 
up  she  was  nourished  in  the  temple ;  taught  in  the  holy 
precepts  of  the  law,  and  the  traditions  of  her  people, 
until  she  reached  the  age  of  discretion ;  then  Zacharias, 
the  high-priest  returned  her  to  her  father,  that  she 
might  find  a  husband  in  Israel,  from  the  tribe  of  Judah. 

"Oh,  my  son!"  and  the  priest  stretched  his  arms 
toward  Panthera.  "Thinkest  thou  Mary  will  go  out- 
side her  own  people  in  such  a  matter?  Refrain  from 
this  thing,  lest  thine  heart  be  sore  and  thy  spirit  broken 
from  her  refusal."  Hillel  leaned  back  in  his  seat  as  he 
finished,  but  continued  to  gaze  beseechingly  into  the 
face  of  the  soldier. 

A  pause — Panthera  crossed  the  room,  returned,  and 
stood  before  Hillel.  The  solemn  warning  had  affected 
the  devoted  Roman  deeply;  his  distress  was  evident. 

"Honored  preceptor,"  he  began.  "Thou  wast  kindly 
generous  enough  to  take  the  son  of  a  Roman  soldier 
under  thy  protecting  care,  to  treat  him  like  one  of  thine 
own  kin ,  thou  did'st  educate  him  in  the  most  beautiful 
precepts  of  the  law,  teaching  him,  among  other  things, 
that  the  whole  duty  of  man — all  men — mark  it  well — 
all  men — rested  on  one  great  commandment:  What- 
soever thou  ivould'st  not  that  a  man  should  do  to  thee, 
do  not  thou  to  him.'  Have  I  remembered  correctly?" 

"Most  certainly,  thou  hast !"  exclaimed  Hillel. 

"Further" ;  went  on  Panthera,  excitedly,  "be  gentle 
and  show  meekness  to  all  men;  when  reviled,  not  to 
revile  again.  Love  peace  and  pursue  it.  Be  kindly 
affectionate  to  all  men — mark  the  universality — all 
men,  and  thus  commend  the  law  of  God.  Is  there  any 
possibility  of  mistake  in  this  matter?  Am  I  wrong?" 

"The  Lord  be  with  thee.    His  blessing  be  upon  thee, 


146  Joachim's  Daughter. 

oh,  my  son!    Thou  art  my  true  disciple."     The  tears 
stole  down  the  face  of  Hillel  as  he  spoke. 

"Rabbi,  Father,  listen  once  more,"  pleaded  the  elo- 
quent lover.  "On  a  time  thou  did'st  tell  thy  poor 
scholar  a  most  beautiful  and  inspiring  story.  Its  lesson 
sunk  deep  into  his  heart;  he  hath  never  forgotten  it. 
May  I  tell  it  to  thee?" 

"My  poor  child !  Could  I  refuse  thee?  Go  on."  The 
voice  of  the  priest  shook  with  emotion  and  he  stood  up 
opposite  his  guest. 

"Long  ago  a  son  of  Israel  sought  a  wife."  Panthera's 
tone,  musical  always,  fell  upon  the  hearing  of  the  priest 
winningly,  entreatingly.  "Thou  wilt  remember  that  he 
tarried  all  night  near  the  very  spot  where  thy  poor 
servant  is  now  standing.  The  sun  had  gone  down, 
and  his  heart  may  have  been  as  sore  as  mine  is  this 
night.  He  made  a  pillar  of  stones  and  laid  him  down 
to  sleep. 

•  "In  his  dreams  he  beheld  a  ladder  resting  on  the 
earth,  and  the  top  of  it  reached  unto  heaven,  and  he 
beheld  the  angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending 
upon  it.  And  behold  the  Lord  stood  above  it.  Tell  me, 
was  that  a  voice  from  heaven?" 

"Truly  hast  thou  spoken,"  assented  the  priest. 

"Then  observe  what  the  heavenly  voice  said,"  went 
on  Panthera  hurriedly.  "  'I  am  the  Lord  God  of  Abra- 
ham, thy  father, and  the  God  of  Isaac; the  land  whereon 
thou  liest,  to  thee  will  I  give  it,  and  to  thy  seed ;  and  thy 
seed  shall  be  as  the  dust  of  the  earth;  and  thou  shalt 
spread  abroad  to  the  west  and  to  the  east,  and  to  the 
north  and  to  the  south;  and  in  thee  and  thy  seed  shall 
all — mark  thine  own  teaching,  oh,  my  preceptor — shall 
all  the  families  of  the  earth  be  blessed." 


The  Mighty  Precepts.  147 

"Are  these  promises  mine?"  demanded  the  young 
man  of  the  sage.  "What  sayest  thou  ?" 

"They  are,  they  are,"  answered  the  priest  with  emo- 
tion. 

"Then  am  I  not  afraid !"  cried  the  soldier,  exultingly. 
"This  is  indeed  the  house  of  God — this  is  'the  gate  of 
heaven'  for  me.  My  family  is  included  and  embraced 
in  that  blessing.  The  heavenly  voice  hath  been  heard 
by  thy  servant." 

"The  Lord  of  hosts  defend  thee!"  exclaimed  the 
seer  as  he  looked  into  the  enraptured  face  of  his  pupil, 
and  saw  the  drift  of  his  argument. 

"Jacob  set  up  a  pillar,  and  made  a  vow,  saying :  'If 
God  will  be  with  me  and  keep  me  in  this  way  that  I  go, 
give  me  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  to  put  on,  I  will  surely 
give  a  tenth  of  all  my  increase  to  the  Lord,"  continued 
Panthera,  without  noticing  the  interruption.  "A  small 
matter  was  such  a  vow,  methinks,  for  one  who  had 
already  the  birthright  of  his  brother,  Esau.  It  was  not 
much  to  promise,  or  offer,  for  the  care  he  asked." 

The  face  of  the  soldier  became  transfigured.  In  the 
dim  light  of  Hillel's  candles  a  glory  of  love  and  sacrifice 
animated  every  feature. 

"To-night,"  he  said.  "I  vow  before  thee,  his  prophet, 
that  if  the  Lord  will  turn  the  heart  of  Mary  toward  me, 
I  will  give  him  all — yes  all — I  have.  My  life,  my  best 
service.  The  God  of  Mary  shall  be  my  God ;  her  coun- 
try, my  country ;  her  people  shall  be  my  people.  On  the 
spot  where  Jacob,  her  forefather,  built  his  altar,  I  shall 
ask  her  to  be  mine.  If  she  will  consent;  then  shall 
the  spot  be  to  me  indeed,  'the  gate  of  heaven.'  If  she 
answer  me  no,  then  shall  I  go  hence  with  a  crushed 
heart." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

JERUSALEM. 

Surrounded  by  walls,  towers  and  fortresses,  from 
which,  on  every  side,  extended  its  beautiful  gardens, 
down  the  valleys  and  up  the  opposite  hillsides  lay  the 
beautiful  city  of  Jerusalem  with  its  mountains,  Moriah, 
Zion,  Acra  and  Bezetha. 

Nestling  among  the  flowers,  parks,  pools  and  tombs 
wTere  the  mansions  of  the  wealthy,  mingling  with  the 
tents  of  the  pilgrims,  who  had  selected  the  delightful, 
shady,  unoccupied  spots  as  locations  for  their  temporary 
habitations. 

The  magnificent  temple  of  God,  on  mount  Moriah, 
was  the  place,  of  all  the  earth,  to  which  the  eyes  of  every 
son  of  Abraham  turned  as  the  center  of  all  things  holy 
and  sacred.  Its  refulgent  brightness  reflected  the  sun's 
rays  from  pure  whiteness  and  burnished  gold.  Every 
prayer,  every  aspiration,  every  hope,  expressed,  or 
conceived,  by  the  mind,  or  the  intensity  of  the  Jewish 
soul,  was  projected  to  this  one  living  center.  Gifts  and 
offerings  flowed  into  its  receptacles  in  a  golden  stream. 
The  first  fruits  of  all  their  possessions  were  freely 
donated  and  dedicated  to  the  maintainance  of  their 
time-honored  system  of  religious  observances. 

This  sanctuary  of  the  Lord,  this  place  of  divine 
adoration,  enshrined  in  every  Jewish  heart,  was  made 
dear  to  their  innermost  affections  by  precept,  tradition 
and  the  holy  oracles  of  God. 

148 


Jerusalem.  149 

On  the  northwest  angle  of  this  mountain,  at  one 
time  called  Zion,  stood  the  famous  Baris,  a  fortress 
built  by  John  Hyrcanus.  It  had  been  strengthened  and 
beautified  by  Herod  and  re-named  Antonia,  in  honor  of 
Mark  Antony.  It  occupied,  with  its  offices,  magazines, 
barracks,  cisterns  and  prisons,  a  large  portion  of  the 
area  of  mount  Moriah. 

The  place  was  garrisoned  by  Roman  soldiers,  who 
were  kept  in  constant  readiness  to  quell  riot  or  disturb- 
ance. Its  advantageous  situation  commanded  not  only 
the  full  view  of  the  temple,  but  the  entire  Tyropoeon 
valley  lying  between  mount  Moriah  and  mount  Zion. 

The  two  new,  and  indescribably  magnificent  resid- 
ences, comprising  the  palaces  of  Herod,  were  situated 
on  Zion.  The  walls  were  surmounted  at  equal  intervals, 
by  enormous  towers. 

High  above  the  palace,  towered  the  three  silent  wit- 
nesses of  the  king's  defenses,  Hippicus,  Phasselus  and 
Mariamne:  fortresses  built  of  white  marble,  the  latter 
erected  and  beautified  in  the  vain  hope  of  quieting  the 
conscience  of  the  king  for  the  murder  of  the  queen 
whose  name  it  bore. 

Each  stone  in  the  structures  was  exactly  thirty  feet 
in  length,  fifteen  in  breadth,  and  from  seven  to  eight  in 
thickness ;  squared  and  set  so  exactly  as  to  almost  con- 
ceal the  joining.  Each  of  the  towers  had  the  appear- 
ance of  a  single  rock,  chiseled  into  form. 

The  grand  summits  aloft  above  David's  wall  greeted 
the  sight  of  two  travelers,  who  passed  through  Gibeah 
toward  Jerusalem.  They  were  mounted  and  riding 
toward  the  city  of  David — Panthera  and  his  friend,  the 
Jewish  philosopher. 

Coming  to  the  descent,  the  two  men  beheld  the  city 
with  vastly  different  emotions.  To  the  priest  it  repre- 


150  Joachim's  Daughter. 

sented  the  glory  of  his  country.  To  the  Roman,  for 
the  first  time,  it  held  more  than  a  passing  interest.  It 
now  represented  the  nation  of  the  woman  he  loved.  Its 
strange  system  of  worship;  its  mysterious  rites  and 
ceremonies,  had,  heretofore,  passed  as  matters  which 
did  not  even  arouse  his  curiosity — now  there  was  an 
interest  attached  to  everything  that  affected,  ever  so 
remotely,  this  strange  people. 

As  the  magnificent  prospect  came  into  view,  the 
soldier  involuntarily  exclaimed. 

"How  grand !  How  is  it  that  I  have  never  felt  this 
beauty  before?" 

"Thou  hast  but  just  learned  to  know  the  beautiful," 
answered  the  priest.  "'Tis  the  city  of  God's  promise." 

"His  promise  to  all  ?"  asked  Panthera. 

"Thou  hast  truly  spoken,"  devoutly  replied  the 
priest.  "To  all  mankind.  Out  of  Jerusalem  shall  go 
forth  the  law." 

"The  city  is  admirably  situated  for  defense," 
remarked  Panthera,  noting  the  prospect  from  the  sold- 
ier's point  of  view. 

"It  hath  withstood  siege  upon  siege,"  said  Hillel, 
proudly.  "The  blood  of  the  Jews  hath  mingled  with 
every  part  of  its  sacred  soil.  On  the  north  and  west  is 
the  valley  of  Kidron,  usually  called  Jehosiphat,  where 
for  ages  my  countrymen  have  buried  their  dead.  The 
mountain  thou  see'st  is  the  mount  of  Olives.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  city  is  the  valley  of  Hinom,  which 
stretches  around  until  it  meets  the  valley  of  Kidron, 
and  from  thence  the  two  form  the  great  trench  that 
extends  to  the  dead  sea." 

"Nature  hath  furnished  all  that  could  be  desired  for 
the  site  of  a  city,"  added  the  soldier. 

"It  is  built,  as  thou  may'st  perceive,  on  hills  divided 


Jerusalem.  151 

by  the  Tyropceon  valley.  The  Damascus  and  Jericho 
ways  converge  at  this  point.  We  will  enter  at  the 
Damascus  gate." 

The  eyes  of  Hillel  seemed  fixed,  his  gaze  never  left 
the  lofty  turrets  before  him. 

"What  are  these  structures  in  the  rocks?"  inquired 
Panthera  as  they  passed  along. 

"Tombs  of  the  Kings,"  replied  the  priest.  "A  num- 
ber of  Israel's  rulers  sleep  on  Zion's  hill  and  at  this 
place." 

As  the  travelers  drew  near  the  city,  they  fell  in  with 
many  others,  bent  on  the  same  journey  as  themselves. 
Jews,  they  were,  robed  in  the  flowing  garments  of  the 
East.  Camels  and  asses,  loaded  with  merchandise, 
crowded  the  way.  The  throng  increased  as  the  meeting 
of  the  roads  was  reached. 

Coming  to  a  place  of  entertainment,  just  outside, 
the  two  friends  procured  care  for  their  animals  and 
entered  the  city  on  foot. 

A  centurion  of  the  Germans  had  charge  of  the  gate. 
He  came  forward  quickly  on  seeing  Panthera,  with 
familiar,  eager  greeting. 

"Thou  hast  been  the  gossip  of  the  garrison,"  he  cried, 
glancing  at  the  linen  covering  on  Panthera's  head. 
"Thine  helmet !  Where  is  it?" 

"Cut  in  twain,"  replied  Panthera.  "By  this  time 
rusting  on  the  hills  of  Judea." 

"Get  thee  within  the  armory,  and  fit  thyself.  The 
company  will  be  glad  to  behold  thy  face,"  commanded 
the  centurion  smilingly. 

Panthera  turned  to  his  companion ;  drew  him  before 
the  officer. 

"Thou  wilt  entertain  my  friend,"  he  said  to  the  cen- 


152  Joachim's  Daughter. 

turion,  "he  is  Hillel  the  Elder,  the  famous  teacher  of 
the  Jews." 

The  dignity  of  the  officer  returned ;  he  bowed  respect- 
fully and  invited  the  aged  priest  to  a  seat  within  the 
gate. 

"Thou  may'st  have  some  time  to  wait,"  he  said 
kindly.  "We  all  love  Panthera.  His  companions  will 
not  release  him  until  they  hear,  from  his  own  lips,  the 
story  of  his  adventures,  for  the  news  of  them  hath 
preceded  him." 

"I  esteem  him  for  his  worth,"  answered  the  Seer, 
looking  after  Panthera,  as  he  disappeared  within  an 
apartment  connected  with  the  guard  room.  "He  is  a 
truly  great  man." 

"He  is  all  that,"  agreed  the  centurion.  "He  joined 
the  German  company  in  Greece,  when  Herod  bargained 
for  our  services.  Should  we  be  called  upon  to  strike 
a  blow,  in  the  King's  defense,  Panthera  will  not  fail 
him.  He  is  a  brave  man  and  above  all,  a  good  one." 

"Methinks  it  requires  true  bravery  to  be  a  good  man. 
Sincerity  is  the  highest  mark  of  bravery."  The  priest 
said,  gravely. 

"Such,  sir  priest,  may  be  the  truth  in  theory;  no 
doubt  it  is  the  thing  in  words,  but — we  soldiers  meas- 
ure bravery  by  the  blows  that  one  may  be  willing  and 
able  to  strike." 

The  centurion  felt  that  the  priest  did  not  entertain 
this  view,  yet,  he  could  not  refrain  from  expressing 
himself. 

"Still,  sir  soldier,  the  one  who  gives  himself  a 
willing  sacrifice  for  the  good  of  others,  especially  if  it 
be  for  the  unthankful,  or  ignorant,  has  a  harder  fight 
than  one  who  storms  a  city,"  said  Hillel,  gently. 

"The  soldier  questions  not  the  good  or  ill,  to  him, 


Jerusalem.  153 

obedience  is  better  than  sacrifice.  To  know  orders,  and 
obey  them,  is  the  test  by  which  he  measures  all  things," 
answered  the  officer. 

"Loyalty  is  a  sterling  quality,"  Hillel  said,  "when 
attuned  to  a  noble  cause,  it  is  honored  of  God  and  held 
in  high  esteem  by  man;  but,  to  do  and  dare,  without 
reason,  is  like  the  blind  devotee,  who  sacrifies  all  to 
appease  his  offended  deity,  or,  who  spends  his  life  in 
slavish  adoration  to  satisfy  his  cupidity,  through  hope 
of  what  he  may  in  turn  receive." 

"And  yet,"  sharply  interposed  the  officer,  "the  two 
motives  you  mention,  seem  to  be  the  highest  law  of  all 
religions." 

"Not  so,  my  son,"  quickly  retorted  the  priest,  "the 
highest  law  of  all  religions  is  exemplified  in  the  love 
we  fcave  for  one  another." 

"And  for  all  men,"  said  another  voice. 

Panthera  had  separated  himself  from  his  comrades, 
and,  coming  hastily  back  to  where  he  had  left  the  priest, 
overheard  the  last  words. 

"The  highest,  the  best,  the  noblest  conception  of 
God,  is  that  of  a  father.  The  best  service,  one  may 
render  such  a  God,  is  the  recognition  of  all  men  as  his 
children — as  members  of  one  common  family."  Pan- 
thera's  word  seemed  living — real,  as  his  glowing  face 
attested  his  belief  in  the  utterance. 

"Thou  art  right,  my  countryman!"  exclaimed  the 
centurion,  in  animated  approval. 

"May  the  Lord  set  his  seal  to  what  thou  hast  said, 
mine  excellent  Panthera,"  added  the  priest.  He  rose  as 
he  spoke.  "We  bid  thee  God  speed,  good  soldier,"  and 
the  priest  turned  to  depart. 

"Fare  thee  well?'  added  Panthera. 

"Thou  art  fortunate  in  thy  leave.    Three  months  is 


154  Joachim's  Daughter. 

a  long  time  to  play  the  patrician,  at  the  king's  expense/' 
remarked  the  officer,  as  Panthera  was  about  to  accom- 
pany the  priest. 

A  look  of  surprise  swept  over  the  face  of  the  soldier, 
but  he  did  not  vouchsafe  an  answer.  The  two  moved 
some  distance  away;  then  Panthera  did  no  longer 
restrain  his  pleasure  at  the  knowledge  imparted  by  the 
centurion. 

"The  king  hath  granted  me  a  long  leave  of  absence," 
he  observed.  "The  centurion  hath  just  informed  me  that 
it  extends  over  the  space  of  three  months." 

Hillel  appeared  to  be  mystified. 

"I  do  not  understand  thee,"  he  said,  "did'st  thou  go 
away  without  permission?" 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Panthera,  smiling,  "but  hastily. 
The  sister  of  the  king  assured  me  that  she  would  take 
care  of  the  matter  of  my  leave.  It  seems  she  hath  done 
so.  I  expected  a  few  days,  but  months — that  is  more 
than  I  had  dared  to  hope  for." 

Hillel  was  pleased  at  this  mark  of  favor  to  his 
scholar. 

"Alexes,  the  husband  of  Salome,  hath  the  control 
of  such  matters,  and  this  may  account  for  the  time 
granted.  At  all  events,  the  arrangement  will  afford 
time  in  the  matter  before  thee.  I  know  of  a  friend, 
whom  we  may  trust,  and  who  may  have  information  of 
what  we  desire  to  know." 

After  thus  expressing  himself  Hillel  led  the  way 
rapidly  south  through  the  Tyropoeon  valley,  until  they 
came  to  a  street,  paralleled  with  the  bridge  connecting 
mount  Moriah  and  mount  Zion.  Entering  this  street, 
they  turned  to  the  left  toward  the  prison  of  Antonia. 
The  priest  was  frequently  recognized,  and,  as  he  passed 


Jerusalem.  155 

was  saluted  with  the  friendly  greetings  customary 
among  the  Jews. 

"The  Lord  be  with  thee,  Rabbi !" 

"His  peace  be  thine  my  son." 

Panthera  was  much  impressed  as  this  evidence  of 
loving  friendship  was  constantly  repeated.  Hillel 
seemed  to  have  a  faculty  of  remembering  every  little 
detail,  of  pleasure  or  pain,  affecting  the  people  who 
looked  to  him  for  advice  and  comfort.  The  remark- 
able man  paused  often  to  speak  to  those  with  whom  he 
was  on  intimate  terms  and  the  two  made  slow  progress 
when  the  Jews  realized  that  their  beloved  priest  was 
among  them. 

The  busy  hum  and  rattle  of  business,  the  incessant 
clatter,  the  shuffle  of  sandaled  feet,  scurrying  along  the 
stone  streets,  proved  interesting  in  the  extreme  to  the 
soldier.  The  hoarse  cries  of  the  perambulating  mer- 
chant, the  ever  recurring  invitations  of  the  various 
traders  as  they  drove  bargains  with  their  customers  and 
bade  all  inspect  the  goods  exposed  for  sale  in  the 
bazaars  and  booths  that  rilled  the  Cheesemonger's 
valley. 

This  portion  of  the  city  was  irregularly  laid  out,  but 
the  priest  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  surround- 
ings, and  threaded  his  way  through  the  narrow  streets 
that,  to  a  stranger,  would  have  seemed  too  intricate 
for  the  unaccustomed  visitor  to  travel.  The  houses 
seemed  to  have  been  thrown  into  their  places  in  dire 
confusion,  and  some  of  the  thoroughfares,  dignified  by 
the  name  of  streets,  afforded  barely  room  for  the  move- 
ment of  the  crowd. 

As  they  met  other  persons,  the  soldier  was  often 
obliged  to  drop  a  pace  behind  Hillel.  At  times  it 
appeared  that  they  were  walking  through  the  corridors 


156  Joachim's  Daughter. 

of  an  immense  prison,  so  closely  did  the  gray  walls 
press  together.  No  openings  had  these  walls  save  those 
so  far  above  the  street  as  to  make  looking  within  impos- 
sible; the  only  evidence  of  life  being  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  a  face  beyond  a  lattice.  Some  of  the  build- 
ings on  opposite  sides  of  the  streets,  were  connected  by 
arches  creating  an  additional  impression  of  a  prison,  or 
vaulted  cellar,  as  they  walked  where  the  sunlight  was 
completely  excluded. 

At  length,  beneath  the  shadow  of  mount  Moriah, 
they  reached  an  inner  court  abutting  on  the  street  from 
which  they  turned. 

"This  is  the  end  of  our  journey,  for  the  present,"  said 
the  priest. 

As  one  at  home  he  entered  the  enclosure,  followed 
by  the  Roman,  whose  cause  had  enlisted  the  sympathy 
of  the  wisest  man  among  the  Jews. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  SEAT  OF  LEARNING. 

The  place,  wherein  they  had  entered,  was  the  court- 
yard of  a  Jewish  seat  of  learning.  Many  young  men, 
all  of  the  pronounced  Jewish  type,  strolled  about  the 
enclosure;  others  were  seated,  and  groups  gathered  in 
different  parts  of  the  stone  paved  space.  That  they  were 
discussing  subjects  of  much  interest,  was  evident  from 
the  close  attention  and  animated  gestures.  Occasionally 
a  voice  broke  into  song,  or  hummed  a  Jewish  melody, 
but  they  indulged  in  very  little  of  mirth. 

The  entrance  of  the  priest,  Hillel,  was  not  noticed 
until  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  students;  then  the 
crowd  surged  toward  him,  where  he  paused,  in  the 
middle  of  the  court,  pleasure  and  welcome  depicted  on 
every  countenance.  They  fell  back  slightly,  as  Pan- 
thera's  glittering  uniform  and  soldierly  figure  met  their 
gaze,  waiting  for  explanation  from  the  Roman,  or  their 
priest,  for  what  might  be  an  intrusion. 

Hillel  observed  this  instantly,  and  hastened  to  make 
the  proper  introductions  to  place  his  friend  at  ease. 

"Young  men,"  he  said,  addressing  those  nearest  to 
him  in  a  tone  sufficiently  loud  for  the  rest  to  hear.  "Be- 
hold the  friend  of  Hillel.  I  beseech,  for  him,  your 
courtesy  and  hospitality,"  and  the  priest  stepped  aside, 
leaving  Panthera  the  center  of  attraction. 

"The  friend  of  Rabbi  Hillel  is  welcome !"  ejaculated 
a  chorus  of  voices. 

157 


158  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Is  thy  teacher,  Judas,  son  of  Sanphseus,  within?" 
inquired  the  priest. 

"He  is,  Rabbi !"  exclaimed  several  eager  voices,  and 
one  of  the  students  hurried  forward.  "Would'st  thou 
speak  with  him?" 

"Aye,  that  I  would,"  answered  Hillel.  "Hasten  thou, 
inform  him  that  Hillel  waits  his  pleasure." 

The  young  man  went  swiftly  across  the  court  and 
disappeared  into  the  house  beyond.  The  priest  seated 
himself  on  one  of  the  number  of  convenient  benches 
and  motioned  the  soldier  to  a  place  at  his  side. 

The  assembly  of  young  men  seemed  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  the  two  new  comers  were  absorbed  in  pri- 
vate consultation,  and  they  spoke  in  subdued  tones; 
gradually  wandering  to  a  distance  from  the  pair,  leav- 
ing them  to  their  own  topics. 

Panthera  had  time  to  notice  some  of  the  peculiarities 
of  the  place.  The  court  was  enclosed,  on  three  sides, 
by  the  walls  of  the  school  building.  The  structure  was 
not  as  high  as  most  of  the  other  buildings  in  the  vicin- 
ity, being  but  two  stories.  The  large  windows  were 
covered  with  lattice  work,  and  could  be  closed  from  the 
inside  by  shutters.  Light  awnings  shaded  them, 
excluding,  entirely,  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The  narrow 
side  doors,  set  deep  on  the  inside  of  the  walls,  suggested 
the  entrances  of  cells. 

Above,  and  on  a  level  with  the  second  story,  a  massive 
balcony  extended  the  whole  length  of  each  side.  Access 
was  gained  to  this  place  by  stone  steps  at  each  end  lead- 
ing from  the  court,  or  from  the  second  story  windows. 
Twelve  marble  steps  across  the  entire  front  of  the  build- 
ing led  to  a  broad  platform,  and,  from  this,  a  lofty 
arched  doorway  led  to  the  interior. 

Age  had  set  its  seal  upon  the  structure,  robbing  it  of 


A  Seat  of  Learning.  159 

much  of  its  original,  beauty;  the  footprints  of  genera- 
tions had  left  their  impress  on  the  stairs  and  pavement ; 
the  seats,  too,  were  worn  into  hollows  through  constant 
use.  Time  had  discolored  the  material  entering  into 
the  construction  of  the  building,  and  given  it  a  dull, 
gray  appearance,  save  where  the  facings  and  steps  kept 
their  original  whiteness  through  care  and  daily  use.  A 
bulky  reservoir  in  the  center  of  the  court  received  the 
rainwater  from  the  flat  roof  through  troughs  and  pipes 
arranged  for  the  purpose. 

While  his  messenger  was  absent,  Hillel  explained  to 
his  companion  that  many  of  the  most  prominent  Jewish 
families  placed  their  sons  in  this  institution  for  instruc- 
tion in  the  law  and  history  of  their  nation.  The  most 
liberal  of  the  Jewish  sects,  that  known  as  the  Essenes, 
being  in  control  of  the  establishment. 

The  Teacher,  Judas,  lost  no  time  in  returning  the 
messenger  to  the  priest,  begging  that  his  illustrious 
friend,  Hillel,  would  come  at  once  to  the  reception 
room. 

The  Elder  Hillel  and  his  friend  followed  the  mes- 
senger across  the  court,  up  the  stone  steps,  through  the 
central  portico,  and,  from  an  ante-room,  into  a  spacious 
chamber  used  for  school  purposes,  but  unoccupied  at 
this  time.  From  this  room  they  went  into  a  hall,  lead- 
ing still  farther  into  the  interior.  Traversing  the  length 
of  this  they  stopped  before  a  door  at  the  left.  A  voice 
from  within  bade  them  enter. 

Pushing  the  door  inward,  the  attendant  held  it  until 
the  Rabbi  and  his  companion  had  passed  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  occupant  of  the  room,  then  he  drew  it  softly 
shut,  and  left  the  Teacher  alone  with  his  guests. 

Hillel  went  forward;  Judas  arose.  The  two  men 
met  and  laid  their  cheeks  together  for  a  moment.  Then 


160  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Judas  placed  his  right  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the 
priest. 

"I  greet  thee,  my  brother,"  he  said.  "What  can  I  do 
to  be  of  service  to  thee?" 

The  speaker  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  with  piercing 
eyes,  and  hair  and  beard  of  jet  black.  He  was  tall  and 
splendidly  muscular,  especially  inviting  was  the  cordial 
frankness  in  his  manner.  He  glanced  beyond  the  priest 
to  the  soldier,  and  Hillel,  placing  his  arm  within  that 
of  the  Roman,  introduced  him  thus : 

"I  present  to  thee  a  worthy  friend  and  companion, 
Caius  Panthera,  a  Ronlan  soldier;  a  student  who  hath 
learned  at  the  feet  of  thy  servant ;  not  only  an  apt  pupil, 
but  a  lover  of  truth,  as  was  his  father,  of  esteemed 
memory,  before  him." 

"Thou  hast  given  the  best  commend  to  our  regard," 
said  Judas.  "Thou  art  welcome  Panthera.  Let  us  be 
seated." 

The  three  men  gathered  round  a  table,  near  the  center 
of  the  room.  Hillel  opened  the  conversation. 

"Our  friend,  here,  hath  espoused  the  cause  of  one  of 
our  fairest  countrywoman,"  he  began.  "Hast  thou 
knowledge  of  the  death  of  Joachim  of  Nazareth  ?" 

"Alas,  yes,  and  we  knew  of  it  only  to  grieve  for  his 
loss.  A  number  of  our  students  wrere  under  his  care 
and  patronage,  and  they  mourn  with  us,  and  also,  for 
the  affliction  and  trouble  following  his  daughter,  the 
beautiful  Mary." 

"You  refer  to  the  abduction  ?"  inquired  Hillel. 

"No — we  heard  of  that  matter,  but  had  understood 
that  she  was  restored  the  same  day  to  her  friends."  The 
speaker  paused,  and  looked  with  new  interest  at  the 
soldier. 

"Thou  hast  been  correctly  informed,"  said  Hillel, 


A  Seat  of  Learning.  161 

with  a  fond  glance  toward  the  Roman.  "This  brave 
and  noble  soldier  was  fortunately  near,  and  he  rendered 
timely  aid  and  assistance.  The  maid,  thanks  to  his 
brave  interference,  was  rescued  on  the  same  day." 

"'Tis  not  this,  to  which  I  refer,"  said  Judas,  "per- 
haps thou  hast  not  heard  what  followed  the  death  of 
our  countryman,"  and  his  features  took  on  a  troubled 
expression. 

"Our  friend  hath  reason  to  anticipate  misfortune  for 
the  daughter  of  Joachim,"  answered  Hillel.  "I  pray 
thee,  tell  us  what  thou  may'st  know  of  this  matter." 

"Confiscation  often  follows  death,  at  Jerusalem," 
said  Judas,  meaningly. 

"Then  our  surmises  are  verified,"  exclaimed  Hillel. 
"We  may  expect  the  worst  to  follow." 

"Indeed  we  may,  of  a  truth,"  replied  Judas,  sadly. 
"In  a  short  time  the  wealth  of  Joachim  will  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  coffers  of  Herod." 

"But — Caesar  lives !"  cried  the  soldier,  no  longer  able 
to  restrain  his  indignation.  "We  will  appeal  to  Augus- 
tus and  the  Senate.  Such  things  cannot  pass  the  Roman 
tribunal." 

"Alas,  my  friend,  'tis  plain  to  be  seen  thou  art  not  a 
Jew.  Herod  hath  some  mysterious  means  of  reaching 
the  ear  of  Augustus,  and  turning  such  matters  in  his 
own  favor.  Moreover  it  is  exceedingly  dangerous  to 
interfere  in  the  monstrous  and  unnatural  undertakings 
of  this  king.  Whatever  may  be  accomplished  for  the 
assistance  of  the  child  must  be  approached  with  care 
and  circumspection.  No  relation  known,  is  too  sacred 
to  enter  into  the  plots  of  this  man,  styled  'king  of  the 
Jews'  for  the  gaining  of  the  ends  he  hath  in  view." 

"Yet  we  will' not  passively  consent  to  the  outrage!" 
cried  Panthera,  in  warm  appeal. 


1 62  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  hast  well  spoken,"  was  the  reply  of  Judas. 
"But,  our  dead  countryman  committed  a  grave  offense. 
In  his  youthful  days,  he  pursued  the  peaceful  vocation 
of  the  shepherd.  In  later  years,  he  entered  the  marts 
of  trade  and  quickly  amassed  large  wealth — this  hath 
touched  the  heart  of  Herod,  in  the  tenderest  spot." 
The  lips  of  the  speaker  curled  disdainfully  and  his 
expression  showed  his  sarcastic  intent. 

"We  will  miss  the  thoughtful  provision  of  Joachim," 
he  continued,  "whatever  thou  may'st  undertake,  for  the 
protection  of  his  daughter,  thou  can'st  be  assured  of  the 
heartiest  co-operation  of  every  individual  connected 
with  this  institution." 

"I  thank  thee,"  said  Panthera,  seeming  to  assume  the 
burden  of  protecting  the  cause  of  Mary.  "Hast  thou 
means  of  knowing  what  is  occurring  in  Jerusalem,  in 
reference  to  the  matter  in  question  ?" 

"The  students  feel  the  sword,  that  is  over  us  all," 
answered  Judas.  "They  are  quick  to  notice  things  of 
this  character,  which  affect  the  homes  of  their  kindred 
or  acquaintances." 

"Tell  us  all  thou  hast  learned,"  persisted  Panthera. 

"The  day  after  the  death  of  Joachim,  a  renegade 
Jew,  Costa,  the  son  of  Ammal,  who  resides  hard  by 
Bethel,  proclaimed  in  the  market  place,  before  the  pal- 
ace of  the  high  priest,  and  at  the  door  of  the  temple; 
that  the  death  was  a  visitation  of  God;  that  Joachim 
was  stricken  down,  while  engaged  with  certain  others, 
in  an  attempt  to  overthrow  the  throne  of  Herod.  He 
declared  that  the  conspiracy  was  crushed  in  its  incipi- 
ency,  by  the  removal  of  the  leader,  through  the  inter- 
position of  the  Almighty.  He  promised  that,  in  a  few 
days,  witnesses,  from  Hebron,  and  its  vicinity,  would 
be  forthcoming  at  Jerusalem,  who  would  establish  these 


A  Seat  of  Learning.  163 

facts.  The  rabble  shouted  in  honor  of  the  king,  who, 
in  the  meantime,  and  that  justice  might  be  administered 
without  delay,  set  his  seal  on  the  possessions  of  the 
dead  patriarch,  whether  they  were  in  Jerusalem  or 
Judea — until  a  further  hearing  of  this  matter  could  be 
had.  Soldiers  of  the  king  are  now  in  charge  of  both 
the  residence  of  the  deceased  and  his  places  of  bus- 
iaess." 

The  Teacher  delivered  this  concise  explanation  with 
apparent  disbelief  in  its  truth  and  waited  for  the  fur- 
ther questions  of  the  soldier. 

"When  will  the  king  hear  this  matter?"  asked  Pan- 
thera. 

"On  the  morrow,"  said  Judas.  "At  the  ninth  hour 
it  is  set  for  hearing.  Proclamation  hath  been  made 
throughout  the  city." 

"Who  are  the  accusers,  if  thou  knowest?''  Hillel 
asked. 

"One  Solan,  whose  sirname  is  Hai,  a  reputed  sor- 
ceror  and  diviner.  He  it  is  who  may  be  expected  to 
furnish  proof  of  the  charges.  A  number  of  other  wit- 
nesses, beside  this  Costa,  are  mentioned.  Most  prom- 
inent among  them  are  Simon  Gatzor,  of  Hebron,  and 
his  daughter,  Alta.  There  are  others  from  Jerusalem, 
all  of  whom  are  of  evil  repute,  known  as  persons  who 
furnish  false  testimony  to  suit  the  humor  or  purposes 
of  the  tyrant,  who  manipulates  these  matters  through 
the  wizard,  as  this  Solan  Hai  is  called." 

Panthera's  face  had  grown  gray  as  he  realized  the 
desperate  situation  that  menaced  the  maiden,  Mary. 

"We  will  attend  this  hearing,trial,  farce,  or  whatever 
it  may  be  styled,"  he  remarked — steady  determination 
hardening  his  features  into  a  look  of  uncompromising 
sternness.  "Our  testimony  would  throw  light  upon 


164  Joachim's  Daughter. 

the  occurrences  at  the  death  of  the  most  worthy  noble- 
man, Joachim ;  more  than  that,  Joseph  and  the  servants 
should  be  present,  and,  if  need  be,  the  young  woman, 
herself." 

"Thou  knowest  but  little  of  Jerusalem,"  said  Judas, 
kindly.  "Do  not  delude  thyself  with  the  supposition 
that  justice  is  the  object  of  this  hearing.  It  would 
fare  ill  with  thee,  did'st  thou  dare  to  attempt  the  giving 
of  testimony  that  might  thwart  the  design  of  the  king." 

"I  shall  be  there,"  said  Panthera,  "and  I  shall  be 
heard." 

"Witnesses  for  the  defense  carry  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  young  sir,"  replied  the  Teacher.-  "Thy  servant 
shall  not  let  or  hinder  thy  purpose.  Be  warned,  how- 
ever, think  well  and  have  a  care  before  thou  carry  out 
thine  undertaking.  The  prison,  on  the  hillside  above 
us,  knows  many  acts  of  treachery  in  the  name  of  coun- 
try, government  and  God.  On  a  level  with  where  we 
are  seated,  and  still  lower  in  the  mountain's  depth,  from 
which  escape,  or  release,  hath  never  been  known,  lan- 
guish many  who  dared  cross  the  purposes  of  the  king. 

"There  can  be  no  controversy  with  those  who  are 
condemned  to  pass  their  lives  in  Antonia.  The  objector 
can  no  longer  annoy  the  king;  every  name  is  forgotten ; 
the  identity  of  every  prisoner — lost.  They  are  swal- 
lowed up  as  though  in  the  embrace  of  death;  nor,  can 
the  despairing  cry  of  the  doomed  ones  reach  the  ear  of 
any  who  might  be  disposed  to  respond  to  their  misery 
with  sympathy  or  help.  The  summons  comes  like  a 
'thief  in  the  night' ;  the  loved  ones  may  plead  at  the  gate 
of  Antonia;  they  will  only  obtain  evasive  replies  to 
their  frantic  appeals.  Once  those  doors  close  upon  the 
form  of  the  entering  wretch,  they  are  sealed.  We, 
miserable  sons  of  Abraham,  have  ever  before  us  these 


A  Seat  of  Learning.  165 

lessons  of  mystery  and  death.  Fear  and  trembling 
have  seized  us;  so  that  morning,  noon  and  night,  we 
have  no  rest.  Neither  we,  nor  our  children." 

Judas  sprang  to  his  feet,  paced  up  and  down  the 
room  and,  at  last,  paused  before  the  two  visitors,  once 
more  expressing  himself  with  energy : 

"To-morrow,  my  friends,  those  dear  young  men 
whom  you  observed  in  the  court  below — students,  philo- 
sophers; the  children  of  fond  and  loving  fathers;  the 
strength  and  support  of  the  mothers  of  Israel ;  the  hope 
of  the  race — of  the  world — will  demand  justice  for  the 
memory  of  their  dead  patron,  and  for  his  defenseless 
child.  They  will  not  be  heard.  On  the  contrary,  a  tag 
will  be  affixed  upon  the  most  forward — a  mark  for 
slaughter.  They  know  the  risk,  yet,  think'st  thou  they 
shrink  from  it  ?  No !  they  have  already  prepared  with 
alacrity,  and  accepted  the  opportunity  of  defying  our 
tyrant,  with  pleasure.  They  will  ring  their  challenge, 
for  mercy  and  justice,  in  his  dull  ears,  but — it  will  be 
in  vain!" 

Judas  sank  into  a  chair  and  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

"Then  I  shall  be  with  them!"  declared  Panthera 
earnestly.  "Their  cause  is  mine.  Their  sorrow  I  will 
share,  it  is  mine  also,  from  our  common  cause." 

The  teacher  shook  his  head. 

"Then  shalt  thou  be  branded  as  a  traitor,  a  rebel,  a 
spy ;  a  consorter  with  evil-doers ;  an  encourager  of  riot 
and  confusion ;  an  enemy  of  the  king,  in  whose  pay  thou 
art.  Shame  will  be  heaped  upon  thy  good  name,  and 
it  will  follow  thee,  until  it  shall  end  in  death." 

"So  be  it !  I  accept  the  alternative.  Rather  than  fail 
in  what  I  know  to  be  my  duty.  If  need  be,  I  shall  die  a 
true  man — true  to  humanity;  true  to  right." 


1 66  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Heaven's  care  be  thine,  my  son,  and  turn  all  evil 
from  thee !"  exclaimed  Hillel,  devoutly. 

He  had  watched  the  intense  energy  of  Panthera,  and 
the  ardent  face  of  his  brother  priest,  as  the  latter 
endeavored  to  convince  the  soldier  that  danger  threat- 
ened those  who  baffled  Herod.  He  knew  the  fearless 
disposition  of  his  pupil;  knew  that  nothing  could 
restrain  him  from  the  execution  of  his  decision. 

Judas  did  not  notice  the  ejaculation  of  Hillel,  but, 
placing  himself  opposite  Panthera  he  fixed  his  eyes, 
smoldering  with  indignation  and  resentment,  upon 
the  intrepid  young  man  and  exclaimed : 

"Let  me  tell  thee  a  story." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A   STORY   OF  REVENGE. 

"Last  year,  late  in  a  winter's  night,  a  man  came  to 
my  door.  When  I  demanded  his  name  he  beseeched 
me  for  admittance,  as  an  act  of  mercy.  I  opened  the 
door  and  beheld  a  soldier  who  was  in  the  pay  of  Herod. 
He  divined  my  intention  of  refusing  him  entrance  and 
pressed  his  way  into  the  room. 

"  'I  am  an  Israelite,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin.  For 
the  sake  of  our  people,  let  me  speak  with  thee.' 

"I  closed  the  door  and  motioned  the  soldier  to  a  seat, 
which  he  declined  and  entered,  at  once,  upon  his  mis- 
sion. 

"  'I  come  to  implore  your  assistance,  your  ministra- 
tion of  sympathy,  for  a  dying  man.  A  Jew,  who  will 
be  dead  before  the  rising  of  the  sun.  He  must  see  a 
priest,  an  elder,  some  one  who  will  assist  him  in  his 
distress.  His  conscience  troubles  him,  and  I  cannot 
bear  to  look  upon  his  pale  face  and  refuse  his  pleading. 
Wilt  thou  visit  him?'  I  could  not  doubt  the  sincerity 
of  the  soldier,  still,  I  hesitated  to  comply  with  his 
request. 

"  'I  am  not  a  priest.    I  am  a  teacher,'  I  replied. 

"  'The  man  desires  to  unburden  his  mind ;  something 
is  tormenting  him.  He  will  never  know  the  difference 
between  priest  and  teacher.  For  the  love  of  God, 
hasten !' 

"I  was  so  impressed  by  the  earnestness  of  the  man 

167 


1 68  Joachim's  Daughter. 

that  I  consented.  In  a  few  moments  we  were  in  the 
street  and  hurrying  toward  the  place  where  the  man, 
for  whom  I  was  to  become  confessor,  was  confined. 
We  arrived,  without  let  or  hindrance.  My  companion 
left  me  at  the  door. 

"  'Knock !'  he  said.    Thou  wilt  be  admitted.' 

"At  this  moment,  another  soldier,  one  of  Herod's 
guards,  passed  slowly  before  the  place.  Then  I  knew, 
of  a  certainty,  that  something  unusual  was  taking  place. 
But  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  painful  experience 
through  which  the  visit  compelled  me  to  pass,  and 
I  devoutly  hope  that  I  may  never  again  be  called  upon 
to  figure  in  such  a  capacity.  My  companion  joined  the 
guard,  whispered  to  him,  and  the  two  went  away 
together,  leaving  me  alone. 

"A  deathlike  silence  reigned  about  the  habitation. 
I  stood  for  a  moment,  at  the  top  of  the  stone  steps, 
Avhich  I  had  ascended  at  the  side  of  the  soldier  guide, 
then  turned  and  knocked  at  the  door.  It  opened  at 
once  and  I  beheld  an  old  man,  his  bent  form  trembling 
in  the  reflection  of  the  lamp  held  above  his  head.  His 
wrinkled  face  seemed  withered,  like  parchment.  He 
thrust  his  claw-like  hand  through  the  opening  and 
clutched  my  shoulder. 

"  Thou  art  alone  ?'  he  whispered,  hoarsely. 

"  'I  am/  I  assured  him. 

"He  almost  pulled  me  within  the  room,  and,  quickly 
closing  the  door,  shot  the  bolt  into  place. 

"  'Follow  me,  be  not  afraid !'  he  exclaimed,  perceiv- 
ing in  my  looks  the  fear  that  had  taken  possession  of 
me. 

"The  man  was  a  most  uncouth  object ;  a  frail,  ghost- 
like creature ;  shuffling  along  with  quick  cat-like  move- 
ments. I  could  not  help  associating  him  with  a  wild 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  169 

animal  from  the  cadaverous  look  of  his  gray  complex- 
ion, the  unkempt  hair,  hanging  over  his  shoulders,  and 
the  grizzled  beard.  His  few  teeth  were  broken  and 
discolored.  To  these  indications  of  extreme  age,  was 
added  a  voice  of  gasping,  rasping  hoarseness,  akin  to 
the  bark  of  a  snarling  dog,  or  the  whining  cry  of  a 
wild  beast.  He  was  the  most  repulsive  specimen  of 
humanity  I  had  ever  beheld. 

"  'Do  not  turn  back,'  he  implored,  in  a  nasal  wheeze, 
'Thou  may'st  thyself  need  a  friend.' 

"Thus  appealed  to,  I  could  not  refuse  to  see  the  mat- 
ter to  the  end.  Still  holding  the  light  above  his  head, 
he  led  the  way  down  a  long  narrow  hall.  Dark  shadows 
enclosed  us  on  every  side,  seeming  to  be  deepened  by 
the  faint  rays  from  the  lamp. 

"At  length  he  stopped  before  a  door,  and  held  it  open 
for  me  to  pass  through.  Stepping  into  the  room,  I  dis- 
covered that,  with  the  exception  of  a  table  and  one 
chair,  it  was  without  furniture.  I  felt  as  though  I  had 
entered  a  vault,  possibly  a  tomb.  The  man  had  pushed 
the  door  shut,  and,  I  felt  assured  that  he  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  slip  the  bolt  into  place.  I  could  not  sup- 
press my  misgivings.  I  had  been  most  imprudent  to 
listen  to  the  importunities  of  the  soldier.  I  was  sur- 
prised to  see,  in  a  corner  of  the  small  apartment,  a 
bath  tub  full  of  steaming  water.  From  this  my  eyes 
came  back  to  the  face  of  the  man,  in  whose  power 
I  now  felt  myself  to  be. 

"  'Do  not  stand  staring  at  me !  We  are  alone.  Thou 
art  strong  and  able.  Why  should'st  thou  fear  a  poor 
old  man  ?  Seat  thyself !' 

"He  pointed  to  the  only  chair.  I  intimated  that 
I  would  prefer  to  stand,  and  offered  him  the  seat. 


170  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"'No!'  he  cried  sharply.  Thou  must  not  hurry. 
Thou  wilt  listen  to  my  story?' 

"He  placed  the  lamp  on  the  table  and  seated  himself 
on  the  outer  edge  of  the  bath  tub,  leaving  me  to  stand 
or  accept  the  proffered  chair,  as  I  might  choose. 

"The  steam  curled  about  the  head  of  the  man,  its 
moisture  dampened  his  disordered  hair.  His  misery 
was  so  palpable  that,  of  a  sudden,  pity  came  to  me.  I  no 
longer  feared  for  my  own  safety,  but  drew  the  chair 
nearer  the  wretch  and  asked  him  why  he  had  sent  for 
me.  He  did  not  reply  at  once  and  I  resumed. 

"  'I  was  given  to  understand,  that  a — ' 

"  'That  a  man  was  dying !'  he  exclaimed,  snatching 
the  words  from  me.  'Thou  wast  informed  truly — I  am,' 
he  paused,  wrung  his  skeleton  hands,  and  finished, 
'a — dead — man.' 

"I  thought  I  understood  now.  I  was  in  the  company 
of  a  madman,  one  possessed,  and  again  I  looked  at  him 
measuring  my  strength  against  his. 

"  'Before  the  rising  of  the  sun/  he  proceeded.  'I  shall 
be  carried  to  Abraham's  bosom,  or  to  hell — to  hell.' 
He  sprang  to  his  feet,  throwing  his  arms  over  his  head 
in  terrible  gesticulations. 

"I  resolved  to  know  what  actuated  this  unfortunate 
creature  before  me.  I  did  not  allow  myself  to  rise  or 
appear  alarmed,  but  begged  him  to  calm  himself  and 
tell  me  all;  encouraged  him  to  unburden  his  mind  to 
me ;  promised  him  my  best  offices  in  his  distress.  This 
had  the  effect  of  quieting  him,  and  he  resumed  his  place 
on  the  edge  of  the  tub. 

"  'Tell  me,  of  a  truth,  art  thou  a  friend  of  Herod?' 
he  whispered,  craning  his  head  forward. 

"I  did  not  wish  to  acknowledge  so  questionable  a 
relation,  and  answered  him  guardedly : 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  171 

"  'I  am  a  Jew.' 

"'Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!'  he  laughed  wildly.  The 
unseemly  mirth  echoing  through  the  bare  room.  'Ha  I 
Ha !  Ha !  Ha !'  My  reply  seemed  to  have  given  him 
intense  satisfaction. 

''  'A  Jew  !'  he  said  explosively.  'That's  good.  I  was 
a  Jew  myself — mark  it.  I  was  a  Jew  once — myself. 
Perhaps  thnu  wilt  not  believe  it  when  thou  hast  heard 
all  my  horrid  story.' 

"  'I  will  not  cease  to  be  a  brother,  I  could  not.  What- 
ever thine  offenses  may  have  been/  I  told  him. 

"  'Nor  crimes  ?'  he  asked,  hungrily. 

"  'No.  No  crime  can  change  the  fact  that  the  Lord 
of  mercy  hath  made  us  all  of  one  blood.' 

"He  seemed  to  take  heart  as  I  thus  encouraged  him, 
looked  more  hopefully  into  my  face  and  told  me  his 
awful  story." 

Judas  had  related  this  statement  rapidly.  He  seemed 
fairly  excited  at  the  prospect  of  interference,  by  the 
soldier  in  the  plans  of  Herod.  He  had  not  been  able 
to  control  the  gathering  of  enthusiastic  young  students, 
who  had  appeared  before  him,  and  made  their  avowal 
to  go  before  the  king,  in  defense  of  their  dead  patron, 
and  the  rights  of  his  young  daughter.  It  did  not 
appear  that  he  would  now  be  able  to  convince  Pan- 
thera  of  either  the  danger  that  would  attend  his  appear- 
ance at  the  trial,  or  of  its  uselessness. 

"The  man,  of  whom  I  speak,  was  Dan  Petros,  a 
jailor,  at  the  prison  Antonia.  I  would  that  thou 
should'st  know  of  its  hidden  horrors." 

Judas  rose  and  went  to  a  cabinet  at  the  other  side 
of  the  room.  Hillel  and  Panthera  waited  silently,  some- 
what awed  by  the  vehemence  of  their  host. 

"I  know  of  no  better  way  to  bring  these  horrors  to 


172  Joachim's  Daughter. 

thine  understanding,  than  by  the  reading  of  what  is 
written  here,"  said  the  Teacher,  returning  to  his  seat, 
and  spreading  a  thick  roll  on  the  table  before  him. 

"The  confession,  made  me  by  this  man,  who  only 
waited  for  the  relief  of  an  unburdened  mind  before 
entering  the  bath  and  opening  his  veins,  did  so  prey 
upon  my  mind  that  at  last,  in  the  hope  of  ridding  my- 
self of  the  constantly  recurring  scene  and  its  one  fright- 
ful actor,  I  wrote  his  narrative  of  exquisite  torture  and 
with  thy  permission  I  will  read  it  to  thee." 

Panthera  murmured  his  appreciation  of  the  interest 
evinced  in  the  welfare  of  a  stranger,  but  Hillel  only 
settled  himself  more  easily  in  his  place,  and  waited. 

Judas  glanced  toward  his  auditors;  saw  that  their 
attention  was  given,  and  at  once  began  to  read : 

THE  STORY  OF  A  DOOMED  MAN. 

"It  is  twenty  and  one  years,  on  the  morrow,  since 
I,  Dan  Petros,  entered  the  service  of  the  king.  I  was 
then  forty  years  of  age.  Born  of  humble  parents,  at 
Joppa,  on  the  sea,  I  was  raised  strictly  of  the  sect 
known  as  Pharisees.  My  father  and  mother  were 
devout  believers  in  the  law  of  Moses,  and  loved  the 
hope  of  the  future  life  that  is  reserved  for  the  faithful. 
In  this  belief  was  I  instructed,  after  the  manner  of 
Israelites,  in  such  matters.  Death  is  approaching; 
I  dare  not  pass  into  the  presence  of  my  God  without 
some  preparation,  some  atonement. 

"Living,  all  the  days  of  my  youth,  by  the  sea,  I  had 
learned  the  calling  of  a  tent  and  sail-maker.  This  know- 
ledge served  me  well  in  hand  and  I  was  enabled  to  take 
to  myself  a  wife.  She  was  an  alien  to  the  commonwealth 
of  Israel,  being  a  Greek  woman.  She  was  beautiful  to 
look  upon,  and  I  loved  her  so  that  I  anticipated  her 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  173 

every  wish,  humored  her  every  whim.  She  was  the 
light  of  mine  eyes,  the  comfort  of  my  heart  and  the 
idol  that  I  worshiped. 

"For  five  years  we  lived  at  Joppa  and  were  happy, 
so  happy.  I  shall  never  forget  the  dream  of  bliss  that 
was  mine,  the  memory  of  it  will  haunt  me  beyond  the 
grave,  to  which  I  go  before  another  day-dawn.  In  an 
evil  hour  we  moved  to  Jerusalem.  I  had  no  trouble  in 
obtaining  employment  there  and,  for  a  while,  we  were 
still  happy. 

"At  last  the  destroyer  came;  a  courtly  man,  of  her 
own  race,  crossed  her  path.  In  some  way,  I  never 
knew  or  cared  how,  they  became  acquainted.  I  was 
twenty  years  older  than  she — my  wife,  my  wife.  He 
was  young,  strong,  beautiful.  He  looked  like  a  God ; 
so  dangerously  handsome  was  his  Greek  face,  that 
I  dreaded,  I  knew  not  what,  when  first  I  beheld  him. 
His  supple  form  might  have  been  copied  in  marble  for 
a  statue  of  'Perfection.' 

"I  came  home  one  day,  to  the  place  that  I  had  slaved 
to  make  comfortable  for  her,  and  found  this  man  hold- 
ing the  wife  of  my  choice,  the  woman  of  my  tenderest 
affection,  close  to  his  traiterous  heart. 

"I  knew  the  guilt  of  the  pair,  I  sprang  upon  them  and 
endeavored  to  fell  him  to  the  floor.  He  seized  me  in  his 
powerful  grasp,  and  I  was  helpless,  as  though  held  in 
a  vise.  Then  he  spoke  to  her,  in  his  accursed  tongue,  and 
she  fled  from  us.  When  she  was  beyond  my  reach,  he 
threw  me  into  the  corner  of  the  room  as  though  I  had 
been  a  bundle  of  feathers.  He  went  out  of  the  room 
laughing,  but  he  pulled  the  door  carefully  shut  and,  in 
some  way,  fastened  it  on  the  outside.  I  have  forgotten 
how  this  was  accomplished,  but  it  served  to  confine  me 


174  Joachim's  Daughter. 

until  he  was  safely  away,  and  as  I  well  knew,  in  the 
company  of  my  false  love. 

"I  obtained  my  freedom  as  speedily  as  possible,  and, 
for  several  days  after,  I  tramped  through  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  in  vain  search  for  the  fugitives,  until  I  be- 
came exhausted  from  exposure  and  hunger.  I  remem- 
ber falling  en  the  doorstep  of  a  large  building,  and  my 
next  recollection  is  of  being  in  a  sort  of  hospital  ward, 
where  soldiers  ministered  to  me. 

"For  weeks  I  lay  there  hovering  between  life  and 
death,  keeping  to  myself  the  secret  of  my  wanderings 
and  the  cause.  At  last  I  was  able  to  leave  my  bed.  I  dis- 
covered that  I  had  been  cared  for,  nursed  back  to 
life,  within  the  fortress  of  Antonia. 

"When  I  recovered,  I  felt  a  desire  to  bury  myself  in 
the  oblivion  of  the  prison,  that  I  might  be  removed 
from  the  sight  of  man.  In  some  way  my  wish  became 
known  to  the  powers,  and  I  was  ordered  to  appear 
before  the  king.  A  guard  of  soldiers  conducted  me 
across  the  bridge  to  the  palace,  ushered  me  into  his 
presence  and  I  was  left  alone  with  Herod.  I  had  seen 
him  before,  on  the  streets,  and  at  a  distance,  but  now 
I  could  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment,  and  I  fell  pros- 
trate before  his  majesty. 

"He  commanded  me  to  rise  and  I  stood  before  him 
in  awe  and  reverence.  He,  in  turn  gazed  into  my  face, 
and,  although  my  eyes  were  cast  downward,  I  knew 
that  he  was  closely  scrutinizing  my  countenance  and 
person. 

"  The  king  is  informed  that  thou  would' st  remain  in 
the  fortress,'  Herod  said,  in  a  stern  voice — measuring 
the  appearance  of  his  intended  instrument  with  critical 
«yes. 

"  'Most  true,  oh,  king,'  I  answered. 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  175 

"  'Would'st  thou  enter  my  service,  as  keeper  of  the 
dungeons  ?' 

"I  heard  this  question  with  almost  incredulous  satis- 
faction. I  to  be  granted  respite  from  contact  with  the 
outer  world !  I  replied  in  eager  acceptance : 

"  'Aye,  oh,  king !  I  have  been  deceived  and  betrayed 
by  the  woman  I  loved  and  trusted.  I  would  hide  myself 
and  bury  my  mortification  and  shame.' 

"The  'King  of  the  Jews'  took  a  step  toward  me. 

"  'Why  not  have  revenge?'  he  hissed  the  words  into 
my  very  ear.  I  dared  to  raise  my  eyes,  for  I  felt  that 
his  penetrating  glance  read  the  longing  of  my  soul.  A 
new  sensation  thrilled  my  body  and  sent  my  blood 
pulsing  madly. 

"The  king  watched  the  clutching  of  my  hands ;  the 
twitching  of  my  face,  and  he  knew  that,  in  imagination, 
I  held  the  hated  rival  in  my  grasp ;  that  I  was  looking 
into  the  eyes  of  my  wife  with  furious  hatred ;  that 
I  could  see  her ;  see  him. 

"I  forgot  the  presence  of  the  king.  I  saw  the  guilty 
lovers  in  my  power.  In  imagination  I  wound  a  mighty 
net,  from  which  there  was  no  escape,  around  each  of 
them ;  listened  to  their  cries,  as  they  moaned  and  begged 
for  mercy.  Great  drops  of  sweat  oozed  from  every 
pore  of  my  body ;  my  muscles  became  tense  and  hard ; 
my  face  was  set,  and  I  knew  it  was  livid  with  the  hue 
of  death.  The  eyes  of  the  king  were  fixed  upon  me  all 
this  time.  I  must  have  become  frenzied.  His  body 
seemed  to  recede  from  me.  All  that  remained  was  the 
sight  of  his  burning,  glaring  eyes.  A  strange,  horrid 
influence  seized  me,  as  though  I  were  possessed  of  the 
spirit  and  power  of  Herod  himself.  I  felt  that  he  was 
still  before  me,  but  my  narrowed  vision  saw  only  the 
awful  staring  gaze — again  he  hissed : 


176  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"'Revenge!  Let  revenge  dominate  thy  soul!  Let 
hate  be  thine  only  ambition — thy  chief  virtue!  Let 
torture  be  thy  pastime  and  diversion.  Slave,  look  into 
my  face,  take  the  thought  from  thy  master — thy  king !' 

"1  felt  as  if  a  terrible  blow  struck  upon  my  head. 
I  fell  to  the  floor. 

"  'Arise !'  I  heard  the  voice  command. 

"I  lifted  myself.  Strange  to  say  my  senses  returned 
forthwith,  and  I  experienced  a  refreshing  feeling. 
I  looked  into  the  face  of  my  king,  my  master,  and 
I  loved  him.  I  was  intoxicated  by  his  forceful  power 
that  gave  me  a  mighty  strengthening  as  it  emanated 
from  his  body  to  my  nervously  prostrated  system.  I  was 
glad  to  be  his  slave ;  to  worship  at  his  shrine ;  to  behold 
in  him  my  god.  He  called  me  by  name,  and  it  made 
sweeter  music  to  my  ears  than  when  it  fell  from  the 
lips  of  my  mother. 

"  'Dan  Petros,  tentmaker  of  Joppa,  receive  the  com- 
mand of  thy  master.  Henceforth  thou  shalt  be  the 
keeper  of  the  dungeons  of  Antonia.  Thou  shalt  be 
Herod's  friend,  which  friendship  shall  be  balanced  by 
thy  loyalty.  When  thou  hast  served  thy  master  well, 
then  shalt  thou  be  rewarded.  Thou  shalt  admit  to  the 
prison  thy  false  wife  and  her  lover.' 

'Oh,  king!'  I  knelt  before  him.  'Behold  thy  slave. 
Life,  soul  and  body  are  freely  given  to  thy  service. 
Henceforth  thy  poor  servant  shall  live  only  in  the 
shadow  of  his  master.' 

"Thus  was  the  compact  made.  I  became  the  keeper 
of  Castle  Antonia  and  entered  upon  my  duties  imme- 
diately. 

''The  man  who  had  preceded  me,  was  thoroughly 
conversant  with  the  place  and  had  grown  old  in  the  ser- 
vice. He  had  kept  a  complete  record  of  the  inmates, 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  177 

besides  a  history  of  the  happenings  during  his  term  of 
office.  He  had  no  intimation  of  being  superseded  until 
an  officer  of  the  king's  guard  introduced  me  as  his 
successor. 

"He  was  informed  in  the  shortest,  most  tense  terms, 
that  an  order  from  the  king  required  him  to  deliver  up 
the  keys,  authority  and  property,  in  his  hands  and  under 
his  control  and  care,  to  his  successor;  that  he  was 
to  remain  and  teach  the  new  incumbent  all  things  neces- 
sary that  might  in  any  way  be  pertaining  to  the  office, 
until  he  should  be  dismissed,  be  that  time  long  or  short. 

"I  was  an  apt  pupil.  Each  corridor,  each  dungeon, 
every  step  leading  from  one  to  the  other ;  all  the  dark, 
damp,  slimy  recesses  of  the  horrible  place  were  laid  bare 
for  my  inspection.  The  use  of  the  implements  of  dis- 
cipline and  torture  was  explained  to  me  in  a  cold  busi- 
ness-like way  that  revealed  the  callous  heart  of  my 
informant.  He  made  me  shudder,  as  horror  after  hor- 
ror, cruelty  after  cruelty  was  exposed.  He  must  have 
acquired  his  relentless  disposition  from  long  contact 
with  the  terrors  of  his  position. 

"In  the  beginning,  I  kept  my  expressions,  of  disgust 
and  fear,  to  myself  with  the  greatest  effort,  as  I  learned 
the  secrets  of  this  God-forsaken  institution.  Every  time 
these  feelings  of  weakening  came  to  me,  the  form  of  my 
wife  and  her  paramour  came  with  frightful  vividness 
before  me,  so  that  I  clutched  at  the  air  with  almost  a 
hope  of  reaching  one  or  the  other  of  them. 

"I  was  introduced  to  each  inmate  as  the  new  mas- 
ter, informed  that  names  were  strictly  prohibited.  My 
tutor  intimated  that  it  was  wisest  to  forget  that  such 
things  had  ever  belonged  to  these  wretches.  He  gave 
me  the  record  of  each  prisoner,  according  to  number. 

"Age  and  youth  suffered  alike  in  these  dismal  dun- 


178  Joachim's  Daughter. 

geons ;  persons  of  both  sexes ;  the  ignorant  and  the  cul- 
tured; the  strong  and  the  weak,  looked  into  my  face, 
striving  to  read  there  some  hope  of  pity.  Some  of  the 
cells  contained  two  persons  but  never  more  than  three, 
while  solitary  confinment  was  the  rule.  Thick  walls 
separated  the  sufferers  from  their  nearest  companions  in 
misery.  The  coarsest  kind  of  food  was  furnished,  and 
the  supply  of  water  was  actually  unfit  for  use. 

"My  instruction  lasted  for  a  month,  or  more,  I  mas- 
tered every  detail.  The  soldiers  recognized  me  as  gov- 
ernor of  the  castle  prison  department,  and  paid  me  due 
respect  and  reverence.  I  accepted  the  dignity  of  my 
new  surroundings,  and  it  seemed  as  natural  to  me  as  if 
I  had  been  a  jailor  and  inquisitor  born. 

"During  this  time  I  visited  the  king  on  a  number  of 
occasions.  We  met  alone  always.  Each  interview 
seemed  to  rivet  the  chains  that  bound  me  to  this  man. 
I  learned  to  worship  and  deify  him.  Every  time  he 
turned  his  eyes  upon  me,  I  found  a  desire  to  run  and 
fall  at  his  feet  to  cry  out  his  praises. 

"  'Great  is  Herod!  "King  of  the  Jews!" 

"In  the  meantime  I  received  my  orders  from  him  face 
to  face.  He  treated  me  more  as  a  companion  than  as 
a  servant.  I  discovered  that  trickery,  duplicity  and  mur- 
der were  the  requirements  that  might  be  expected  of 
me ;  that  they  constituted  the  stock  in  trade  of  the  hire- 
lings in  the  service  of  my  idol.  This  did  not  deter  me 
nor  did  the  warnings  of  my  predecessor. 

"The  time  came  when  I  considered  myself  equipped 
to  take  full  charge. 

"My  master  had  intimated  to  me  that  it  would  be  a 
matter  of  safety  to  him  should  the  old  keeper  find  a 
way  to  heaven.  The  few  weeks  of  contact  with  the 
workings  of  the  prison  had  so  changed  me,  that  I,  at 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  179 

once,  set  about  the  finding  of  means  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  murder.  I  did  not  delay  the  matter, 
but,  on  that  very  day  made  excuse  for  him  to  go  with 
me  into  the  very  lowest  dungeons.  I  had  resolved  to 
push  him  over  the  corridor  wall,  into  the  water  below, 
and  drown  him,  when  a  still  more  diabolical  means  for 
making  way  with  him  presented  itself. 

"We  came  to  four  cells,  more  like  niches,  cut  into 
the  solid  rock.  I  did  not  remember  to  have  seen  them 
before,  as  the  doors  were  of  stone  and  when  closed  gave 
the  appearance  of  a  bare  wall.  How  it  happened  that 
they  had  been  opened  on  this  day  I  did  not  inquire. 
I  called  the  attention  of  the  keeper  to  this  place,  request- 
ing explanation  as  to  the  use  of  such  narrow  cells. 

"He  seemed,  of  a  sudden,  to  realize  the  misfortune 
that  had  befallen  me,  in  becoming  a  tool  of  that  mon- 
ster I  called  'master.' 

"  'Be  persuaded,'  he  earnestly  ejaculated,  'and  relin- 
quish the  undertaking.  M-isery,  sickening  misery  is  on 
every  hand.  The  howling,  shrieking  cries  of  despair 
are  continually  ringing  in  my  ears  with  the  sobs  and 
sighs,  the  groans,  muttered  imprecations  and  curses  of 
the  unfortunates  who  are,  and  will  be,  doomed  to  the 
living  hell  of  this  place.  Even  am  I  compelled  to  listen 
to  the  whispers  of  maniacs.  Remember,  no  person  hath 
ever  escaped  to  tell  of  the  calamities  and  sorrows  that 
befall  the  inmates  of  this  prison.  Go !  take  a  rope  and 
hang  thyself ;  dash  thy  brains  against  these  rocks !  Fly ! 
Fly !  Do  not  remain  in  this  accursed  place.  Leave  the 
dreadful  mysteries  and  this  infernal  work  to  me,  thy 
servant,  who  is  past  redemption ;  whose  life  is  a  seeth- 
ing caldron  of  remorse  and  dread,  fit  for  only  such  pur- 
poses. Thou  art  young ;  thy  soul  is  yet  pure ;  thy  hand 
hath  not  been  stained  with  thy  brother's  blood.  Man, 


180  Joachim's  Daughter. 

man,  if  thou  art  not  already  lost ;  if  thou  art  not  yet  the 
slave  of  the  crudest  demon  that  ever  disgraced  the 
name — Humanity,  pause,  think,  and  for  the  sake  of  all 
that  is  good  and  holy ;  for  the  sake  of  the  mother,  who 
gave  thee  life;  for  the  hope  of  home  and  wife,  that 
may'st  be  thine,  if  thou  wilt  go  back  to  the  world ;  that 
thou  may'st  have  the  respect  of  man  and  the  love  of 
God,  I  conjure  thee,  I  implore  thee,  give  up  this  position 
and  fly  before  it  is  too  late.' 

"During  this  harangue  he  never  once  paused,  but 
held  my  hand,  in  a  grasp  that  was  painful,  so  strong 
was  it.  But  the  month  had  done  its  work.  The  dis- 
respectful mention  of  my  king  and  the  unfortunate 
reference  to  wife  and  home,  made  any  effect  of  his 
pleading  useless,  unless  it  was  to  infuriate  a  mind 
already  maddened.  That  moment  I  resolved  to  make 
the  keeper  the  first  victim  of  the  demon  that  possessed 
me. 

"  'Unhand  me,  thou  defiler !'  and  I  pushed  him  away 
disdainfully.  'Teach  me  the  use  of  these  cells  and  cease 
thy  prating.' 

"He  looked  at  me  for  a  moment  as  if  he  could  not 
understand  such  savage  speech  from  a  companion 
whom  he  had  taught  for  the  past  few  weeks.  He  did 
not  seek  to  expostulate,  but,  stepping  within  the  swing 
door  of  one  of  the  cells,  he  dismissed  the  subject  of  my 
peril  of  soul  and  exclaimed : 

"  'Behold !  A  man  hath  but  just  room  enough  to 
stand  erect  within  this  infernal  portal.' 

"An  iron  grating  served  for  an  inner  door. 

"  'This,'  he  said,  showing  me  a  fastening  on  the  out- 
side, 'may  be  closed  for  two  or  three  days,  your  pri- 
soner will  seldom  prove  obdurate  after  that  length  of 
time.  Should  he  do  so,  you  may  close  the  outer  door, 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  181 

and  the  supply  of  air  is  not  sufficient  to  sustain  life 
many  hours.' 

"  'Try  it,  thou  fool !'  I  cried  and  I  slammed  the  grat- 
ing into  its  place. 

"The  fastening  secured  itself,  and  I  seized  the  pon- 
derous outer  door,  and  swung  it  slowly  shut.  The  cry 
of  rage  and  terror  that  the  keeper  uttered,  as  he  compre- 
hended his  situation,  I  will  never  cease  to  hear,  but  at 
that  time  it  was  music  to  my  ears.  The  rocky  door 
was  closed.  It  did  not  entirely  drown  those  fearful 
screams,  but  I  danced  up  and  down  the  corridors,  wild 
with  delight  at  this  my  first  act  of  inhuman  cruelty. 

"I  crept  back  to  the  door  that  I  had  closed  forever. 
A  human  being  begged  for  mercy  from  within,  but  his 
cries  had  no  power.  I  reveled  in  fiendish  joy  as  I  lis- 
tened to  the  prayer  for  deliverance,  and  the  promises  if 
I  would  let  him  depart  in  peace. 

"From  the  half  hour  that  I  spent  at  that  door  came 
a  mania  which  led  me  to  the  committing  of  a  multitude 
of  most  foul  and  unnatural  crimes.  They  come  before 
me  now  in  their  consecutive  order. 

"For  two  years  I  rendered  unquestioning  service  to 
Herod,  my  king ;  I  learned  nothing  of  the  whereabouts 
of  my  wife.  I  began  to  believe  that  Herod  had  forgot- 
ten his  promise.  He  never  referred  to  it.  Then  the 
thought,  that  she  might  have  placed  herself  beyond  the 
reach  of  even  this  powerful  monarch,  came  to  me  and 
added  to  my  torturing  doubts.  I  had  confined  myself 
to  the  prison  and  the  adjoining  palace  during  all  this 
time. 

"Now  I  began  to  go  about  the  streets  again,  perhaps 
I  might  find  the  woman.  Brooding  thus,  I  at  last 
became  so  desperate  as  to  resolve  that  I  would  bring  the 
matter  of  my  revenge  before  the  king.  This  I  deter- 


1 82  Joachim's  Daughter. 

mined  to  do  daily,  and  as  often  found  myself  dumb  in 
his  presence,  not  daring  to  utter  a  syllable  of  what  was 
in  my  mind.  I  continued  to  pace  the  streets,  however, 
and  at  last,  after  many  days,  my  vigilance  was 
rewarded.  I  saw  her.  She  wore  a  face  covering,  and 
was  attired  in  a  flowing  gown  of  black,  but  this  could 
not  conceal  the  beauty  of  her  form,  or  disguise  the 
undulating  grace  of  her  movements.  I  could  not  be 
mistaken.  I  followed  her.  She  entered  the  door  of  a 
splendid  residence,  in  the  best  part  of  the  city.  She 
was  mistress  here.  Her  manner  of  opening  the  door 
was  proof  of  that. 

"Was  she  living  in  affluence — with  him?  I  would 
have  rushed  before  her,  driven  her  from  the  commun- 
ity, where  she  seemed  so  grandly  situated,  but — no, 
I  had  waited  long — there  was  a  better  way. 

"I  concealed  myself,  nearby,  where  I  could  command 
a  view  of  the  entrance.  I  waited,  waited ;  at  last  a  man 
approached.  It  was  he.  He  went  up  the  steps  and 
entered  the  door,  where  I  had  seen  the  form  of  my  wife 
disappear.  I  had  not  been  mistaken. 

"The  next  day  I  did  that  which  I  had  not  done 
before.  I  went  unbidden  to  the  audience  room  of 
Herod.  I  still  loved  him.  He  was  my  master,  but,  should 
he  choose  to  punish  my  audacity,  it  could  not  cause  me 
more  anguish  than  I  was  now  enduring. 

"The  king  received  me  most  kindly.  I  stood  before 
him  in  such  feverish  excitement,  such  pitiable  anxiety 
that  he  deigned  to  ask  my  wishes. 

"  'Thy  promise,  oh,  king !  My  wife,  her  lover,  thou 
did'st  say  I  should  admit  them  within  the  doors  of 
Antonia.' 

"The  king's  impassive  face  showed  no  surprise,  but 
now,  I  verily  believe  his  majesty  had  forgotten  that 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  183 

part  of  his  compact,  so  little  does  he  care  for  what 
concerns  his  servants,  and  those  within  his  power.  He 
encouraged  me  to  speak,  and  I  poured  out  all  my  pent 
up  misery  and  the  story  of  how  I  had,  at  last,  found 
those  I  sought.  I  was  of  use  to  Herod  then.  He  could 
not  have  replaced  me  easily.  He  listened  without  com- 
ment. 

"  Thou  hast  suffered,  my  good  Dan,'  he  said.  'Also, 
thou  hast  served  me  well.' 

"Then,  as  I  knelt  before  him,  he  dismissed  me  and 
my  petition. 

"  'Thy  duties  require  thee.  Thou  may'st  go,'  he 
said. 

"As  one  in  stupor  I  left  him.  The  terrible  influence 
of  this  man  was  evidenced,  in  that  the  thought  of  revolt 
did  not  occur  to  me.  I  went  about  my  tasks  as  one  who 
dreams,  but,  within  four  days,  the  wife  whom  I  hated, 
and  the  man  whose  life  I  sought,  were  confined  within 
the  prison  where  I  was  almost  an  absolute  master. 

"Revenge  was  within  my  grasp,  and  I  lauded  the 
master,  who  has  made  it  possible  for  me.  I  fawned 
upon  him,  was  a  sycophant,  told  myself  that  it  had  been 
but  kindness  on  his  part,  when  I  was  turned  away 
unsatisfied. 

"My  time  spent  among  the  dungeons,  had  greatly 
changed  me.  In  such  a  place  my  wife  never  thought  of 
seeing  me.  I  had  cultivated  the  heavy  beard,  which 
thou  see'st,  for  just  this  contingency.  Neither  of  them 
recognized  me  for  a  moment. 

"I  placed  them  in  separate  cells,  well  lighted;  gave 
them  generous  allowances  of  food  and  some  other 
comforts.  For  days  I  waited  upon  them  myself — lis- 
tened to  their  inquiries  as  to  the  reason  of  their  incar- 
ceration, and  made  such  replies  as  suited  my  fancy  to 


1 84  Joachim's  Daughter. 

alarm  and  torment  them,  all  the  time  guarding  the 
truth.  I  supplied  them  bountifully  with  necessities, 
that  their  strength  might  not  give  out,  not  until  I  should 
waste  it  myself. 

"Slowly,  day  by  day,  I  substracted  from  the  com- 
fort, I  may  say,  luxury,  allowed  them  on  their  first 
entry.  Occasionally  I  allowed  her  to  visit  him  at  the 
door  of  his  cell,  while  I  beheld  her  distress  and  mis- 
givings. Then  I  reversed  this  refinement  of  cruelty 
and  enjoyed  his  despair,  as  he  told  his  misery  and 
uncertainty  before  the  door  of  her  prison. 

"I  changed  their  cells,  at  last,  to  less  comfortable 
ones,  then  to  the  worst  ones,  short  of  the  real  dungeons, 
then,  denied  them  further  intercourse,  and  finally,  all 
knowledge  of  each  other  save  as  they  obtained  it 
through  me.  In  this  fashion  a  year  dragged  along, 
during  which  time  they  knew  the  bitterness  of  every 
•disappointment  I  could  devise. 

"One  day,  when  I  had  reduced  the  Greek  to  absolute 
submission  through  starvation,  I  brought  her  to  look 
upon  the  skeleton  of  the  man  she  loved.  When  she 
saw  him,  she  uttered  a  cry  and  ran  to  his  assistance. 
I  grasped  her  arm,  and  held  her  back. 

"  'Hold,  harlot !'  I  cried.  Something  in  my  voice 
startled  her  memory  into  keen  activity.  She  gazed  into 
my  eyes  in  horrified  recognition  as  she  shrank  away. 
The  man  dragged  his  emaciated  limbs  toward  me  as 
though,  instinctively,  to  protect  the  woman. 

"I  felled  him  with  a  blow  from  the  club  which 
I  always  carried,  and  threw  the  miserable  wreck  of  a 
woman  to  the  further  side  of  the  cell.  Then,  standing 
between  the  two,  I  heaped  imprecations  upon  them. 

"The  man  arose,  and,  standing  as  erect  as  his  wasted 
strength  would  allow,  he  dared  me  to  do  my  worst. 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  185 

"  'Strike,  coward — kill !  I  know  thee.  It  is  all 
thou  can'st  do.'  His  voice  was  scarcely  more  than  a 
whisper  for,  of  a  truth,  he  was  barely  able  to  speak. 

"  'Think  not  so !'  I  gloated.  'Thy  sufferings  have 
only  commenced.' 

"  'Mercy !'  moaned  my  wife,  and  she  flung  herself 
at  my  feet  only  to  be  spurned. 

"Why  should  I  continue  the  story  of  this  horrible 
revenge,  why  dwrell  longer  upon  the  torment  that 
I  heaped  upon  them.  Shame  and  indignity  I  con- 
stantly brought  to  them,  upbraiding  them  continually 
with  the  infamy  they  had  brought  me.  I  did  not  cease 
this  until  he  succumbed,  and  death  put  an  end  to  his 
sufferings.  Then  I  threw  his  body  into  her  cell,  and 
starved  her  to  death  in  grief  and  madness. 

"Herod  delighted  in  the  executioner  who  consum- 
ated  his  wicked  designs.  The  dungeons  were  always 
filled  with  those  of  whom  the  king  wished  to  be  rid. 
For  nearly  twenty-one  years  I  fattened  on  the  misery 
I  produced,  basking  in  the  favor  of  the  king.  Now 
he  hath  forsaken  me,  and  given  me  three  days  in  which 
to  make  my  peace  with  God  and  man.  I  cannot  settle 
my  account.  I  have  been  commanded  to  let  out  my 
veins.  I  know  too  many  of  the  secrets  of  the  king. 
Before  the  sun  rises  in  the  morning  my  time  on  earth 
is  ended.  Behold  the  water,  the  bath,  there  is  no  escape. 
'Tis  his  order.  I  must  die." 

Judas  pushed  the  roll  away,  and  shook  the  heavy  hair 
from  his  forehead. 

"This  is,  in  brief,  the  story  of  Dan  Petros,  as  he 
related  it  to  me.  Some  of  the  dreadfulness  of  it  may 
have  been  conveyed  to  thee  by  this  reading.  Thou 
could'st  not  know  the  intensity  of  horror  that  held  me 
spellbound  as  I  listened  to  his  agonized  confession, 


1 86  Joachim's  Daughter. 

and  saw  his  wild  pleading,  as  he  interruped  himself 
with  prayers  to  his  outraged  God. 

"I  counselled,  admonished  and  encouraged  the  des- 
pairing man,  who  was  confronting  compulsory  death, 
as  best  I  could;  told  him  of  the  tender  mercy  of  a 
heavenly  father  who  pitied  his  childen,  and  who  had 
said :  'Though  thy  sins  be  as  scarlet,  yet  shall  they  be 
white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red,  like  crimson,  they 
shall  be  as  wool.' 

"I  left  him  when  the  gray  of  the  morning  streaked 
through  the  eastern  sky.  Friendless,  save  for  the  unut- 
terable pity  that  filled  my  being,  he  closed  the  door 
after  me,  and  it  was  known,  among  men,  that  the 
keeper  of  the  prison  had  been  found,  in  his  bath  tub, 
with  his  veins  emptied." 

Rabbi  Hillel  sighed  heavily  as  the  speaker  paused. 
This  was  only  a  new  proof  of  the  relentless  brutality 
of  the  king. 

"Thou  wilt  be  warned,  my  son,"  said  the  priest  in 
tender  solicitude,  as  he  beheld  the  knitting  of  Pan- 
thera's  brow  and  his  clinched  hand. 

The  soldier  leaned  across  the  table  to  Hillel. 
"Thou  know'st  that  I  must  not  be  careless  of  what 
concerns  all  my  life,  and  hers,"  he  murmured.  Then, 
rising,  he  grasped  the  outstretched  hand  of  Judas, 
"I  know  not  how  to  thank  thee.  I  cannot  but  heed  the 
lesson  of  this  experience,  which  thou  so  kindly  hath 
placed  before  me.  But,  shall  I  shirk  a  duty  because 
danger  threatens?  No,  never!  I  would  have  thee 
know  that,  henceforth,  I  am  a  Jew.  I  know  the  disdain 
in  which  the  tyrant  is  held.  I  know  the  sorrows  of 
this  people;  already  more  than  human  heart  can  bear. 
I  espouse  their  cause,  I  will  share  their  suffering.  I  will 
attend  the  hearing  before  Herod,  even  though  the  pri- 


A  Story  of  Revenge.  187 

son  doors  on  Antonia  close  about  me.  Neither  her 
name,  nor  the  name  of  her  dead  father  shall  be  defamed 
without  my  protest." 

The  priest  and  teacher  looked  at  each  other  in  dis- 
may, as  Panthera  uttered  this  intrepid  speech.  It  was 
plain  that  this  splendid  son,  of  a  martyred  father, 
would  not  be  intimidated ;  that  he  would  persist  in  his 
determination  and,  in  all  likelihood,  offend  the  king. 

"Very  well,"  said  Judas,  seeing  a  meaning  look  on 
the  countenance  of  Hillel.  "Rest  thee  here  with  us. 
On  the  morrow  thou  shalt  be  accompanied  by  a  thou- 
sand students,  to  the  council  chamber  of  the  ruler  who 
hath  dared  to  desecrate  the  temple  of  the  most  high 
God." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PREPARATION   FOR  THE  INQUISITION. 

Panthera  spent  a  weary,  restless  night.  The  teacher's 
story,  together  with  the  anxieties  and  events  that  had 
crowded  so  thick  and  fast  upon  him,  had  so  jarred  his 
nerves  as  to  make  sleep  impossible.  The  discordant 
awakening  of  the  great  city  came  as  a  positive  relief  to 
his  over-strained  senses.  Action  would  be  the  only  vent 
for  the  indignation  and  rebellion  pent  up  in  the  heart 
of  the  soldier.  The  hurry  of  trampling  feet,  accom- 
panied by  the  cries  of  fruit  venders,  told  that  all  the 
city  was  astir.  These  familiar  sounds  seemed  to  hold 
more  than  their  ordinary  significance,  to  convey  a  fore- 
boding of  evil  that  Panthera  well  knew  would  be 
wrought. 

The  priest,  Hillel,  had  also  passed  a  tiresome  night. 
He  joined  Panthera  unrefreshed,  his  fine,  old  face  bear- 
ing every  indication  of  solicitude. 

The  friends  broke  their  fast  with  a  light  meal,  and 
sauntered  forth,  hoping  to  see  or  hear  something  that 
might  enlighten  them  in  regard  to  the  proceedings 
anticipated  for  the  afternoon. 

They  made  their  way  slowly  up  the  incline  toward 
mount  Zion,  directing  their  steps  so  as  to  reach  the 
palace  of  the  king.  Wandering  from  place  to  place, 
they  joined  the  groups  of  people,  their  eyes  and  ears 
constantly  on  the  alert  for  indications  that  might  expose 

188 


Preparation  for  the  Inquisition.  189 

the  designs  of  Herod  concerning  the  Jewish  maiden, 
and  the  disposal  of  the  estate  that  was  her  inheritance. 

As  Judas  had  said,  the  whole  property,  of  which 
Joachim  had  died  possessed,  was  guarded  by  soldiers 
and  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  king.  Inventories  were 
being  made,  and  the  two  friends  felt  little  doubt  that 
all  this  was  but  the  first  step  toward  confiscation.  Their 
conclusion,  that  the  very  worst  outrage  might  be 
expected,  was  more  than  confirmed  by  personal  obser- 
vation and  the  careful  inquiries  they  made. 

Few  words  of  commendation  were  uttered  for  the 
dead  merchant.  Those  who  spoke  well  of  Joachim,  did 
so  in  whispers,  while  the  distributers  of  evil  rumors 
displayed  an  activity  that  betokened  the  probability  of 
reward  for  the  industrious  scattering  of  reports  deroga- 
tory to  the  name  and  fame  of  the  dead  patriarch.  These 
were  related  whenever  an  audience  could  be  secured. 
The  very  atmosphere  seemed  full  of  dread,  and  the 
knowledge  that  whatever  was  creditable,  to  the 
deceased  Jew,  would  find  no  favor  with  the  king. 

For  the  most  part  prejudice  was  aroused  quietly,  but 
some  orators  grew  bold  enough  to  harangue  the  people 
from  the  street  corners  and  in  the  market  places.  All 
these  creatures,  in  the  pay  of  the  king,  set  forth,  in 
glowing  colors  the  extent  and  proportions  of  the 
threatened  invasion  of  Judea  and  Jerusalem. 

The  sum  of  the  charges,  as  gathered  from  all  sources, 
was  that,  during  the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  Joachim 
had  aided,  assisted  and  encouraged  the  enemies  of 
Caesar  and  Herod,  who  were  preparing  to  lead  an  army 
from  Persia  to  over-run  the  eastern  provinces  of  the 
Republic,  enthrone  a  mighty  prince  at  Jerusalem  and 
establish  a  kingdom  that  should  rival  Rome  in  splendor. 

It  was  freely  charged  that  the  great  wealth  of  the 


190  Joachim's  Daughter. 

patriarch  had  been  diverted  to  this  work  and  that  it 
was  now  dedicated  to  this  seditious  cause.  Internal 
insurrection  and  revolt  had  already  invaded  the  very 
household  of  Herod.  Many  of  the  Jewish  soldiers,  and 
some  of  the  German  contingent,  were  under  suspicion. 
It  was  also  claimed  that  other  and  more  startling  accu- 
sations would  be  made  at  the  hearing  before  the  king, 
the  chief  priests,  scribes  and  elders. 

But  for  the  counsel  of  the  priest,  Panthera  would  not 
have  held  his  peace,  as  he  recognized,  on  the  surface  of 
all  this  commotion,  the  handiwork  of  the  king's  emis- 
saries. Their  fraudulent  methods  were  too  transparent 
to  require  research,  or  investigation,  as  to  their  source. 
Both  Hillel  and  Panthera  were  satisfied  that  public 
resentment  and  hatred  were  being  augmented,  that  a 
decided  denunciation  would  occur  at  the  hearing. 

In  thus  learning  the  situation,  the  morning  \vas 
spent.  Noon  came  finding  the  wayfarers  an  hungered. 
Hillel  turned  in  at  the  home  of  a  friend  and,  with  Pan- 
thera, shared  the  repast  of  the  family.  From  this  place 
they  observed  the  relays  of  troops  moving,  in  com- 
panies, toward  the  palace  grounds,  sufficient  evidence 
that  precaution  had  been  taken  for  the  quelling  of  any 
hostile  disturbance  that  might  be  provoked,  or  that, 
under  the  circumstances,  the  friends  of  Joachim  might 
be  prepared  to  make. 

After  taking  leave  of  their  host,  Panthera  and  the 
priest  repaired,  without  further  delay,  to  the  palace 
grounds  where  the  trial  was  to  take  place.  It  was  well 
nigh  the  time  set  when  they  arrived. 

Stretched  before  them  were  the  wonderful  lawns, 
their  natural  green  abundantly  relieved  by  artistic  set- 
ting of  various  hued  flowers.  Fountains,  of  every  con- 
ceivable kind  of  sculptored  marble  and  granite,  sparkled 


Preparation  for  the  Inquisition.  191 

through  the  waters  gushing  from  their  cunningly 
devised  openings.  A  profusion  of  beaten  ornaments 
of  brass  and  copper  assisted  in  giving  animation  to 
the  scene,  attracting  the  eye  and  charming  the  mind. 
Here  and  there  beneath  the  shade  of  mighty  branches 
were  placed  seats  for  the  public  use. 

Broad  thoroughfares  circled  throughout  the  grounds, 
converging  at  a  wide  court  of  tesselated  marble,  white 
and  black  and  beautifully  polished. 

This  court  lay  at  the  foot  of  an  expanse  of  granite 
steps  leading  to  a  raised  portico  of  highly  polished 
stone.  These  steps  served  for  seats  from  which  could 
be  obtained  a  view  of  the  paved  court  and  the  gardens 
beyond.  At  the  top  of  the  splendid  flight,  was  placed 
a  heavy  turreted  battlement  with  embrasures,  behind 
which  large  bodies  of  troops  could  be  concealed. 

In  the  center  of  this  battlement  gleamed  a  dais, 
draped  with  crimson.  A  massive  Roman  eagle,  bur- 
nished in  gold,  with  outspread  wings  and  head  thrown 
forward,  surmounted  the  canopy,  in  apparent  readiness 
to  swoop  down  on  the  multitude.  Underneath  was  the 
seat  of  the  king,  of  chiselled  stone  and  raised  so  that 
the  occupant  might  have  an  unobstructed  view  of  every 
person  before  him. 

Here  it  was  that  Herod  chose  to  sit,  and  listen  to 
matters  which  might  effect  the  welfare  of  his  people. 
Here,  in  turn,  he  might  carry  out  his  designs  against 
them.  Proclamation  was  always  made  as  to  the  time, 
and  matter  which  would  be  heard,  and  these  days  were 
looked  forward  to,  set  apart,  as  gala  days,  when  the 
people  would  be  allowed  some  license  and  the  privilege 
of  taking  part  in  the  demonstrations. 

Huge  pillars  of  polished  granite  were  set  at  regular 
distances  extending  from  either  side  of  this  judgment 


192  Joachim's  Daughter. 

seat  out  beyond  the  checkered  pavement,  a  colonnade 
on  which  were  stretched  canvas  curtains  shutting  out 
the  rays  of  the  sun  and  the  glare  of  the  eastern  day. 

Soldiers,  horse  and  foot,  had  been  moving  all  the 
forenoon,  in  squads  and  companies,  from  the  neigh- 
boring fortresses,  taking  up  positions  of  advantage  in 
near  proximity  to  the  palace.  Since  daybreak,  Jewish 
horsemen  had  patroled  the  grounds.  These  demonstra- 
tions had  the  double  effect  of  overaweing  the  people 
and  giving  the  matter  in  hand  a  precautionary,  war- 
like appearance. 

The  crowd  that  had  gathered  at  the  mount  Zion 
market  place  in  the  forenoon,  lingered  in  the  vicinity 
until  the  hour  set  for  the  hearing,  then  added  its  number 
to  the  motley  assembly  already  gathered  before  the 
palace.  It  was  a  noisy  multitude.  Discussion  ran  ram- 
pant. Many  other  themes,  besides  the  one  in  question 
were  mooted  and  argued  with  an  earnestness  that  was 
surprising,  when  the  awe  in  which  the  people  stood  was 
considered. 

Students  of  the  different  Jewish  sects,  and  from  the 
different  places  of  learning,  were  present,  and  promi- 
nent from  the  active  part  they  were  taking  in  the  vari- 
ous discussions  affecting  the  welfare  of  their  country- 
men. Their  religious  and  political  differences  \vere 
known  by  the  clothing,  or  the  distinctive  marks  and 
badges,  which  they  wore. 

They  were  united  in  some  things.  In  general  these 
young  men  had  a  deep  seated  hatred  against  the  gov- 
ernment of  Rome,  and,  so  far  as  this  might  include 
Herod,  against  him  as  well.  Their  reckless  indiffer- 
ence to  danger,  or  the  authority  of  the  king,  bordered 
on  insane  presumption.  Frequently  these  gatherings 
ended  in  riot  and  bloodshed. 


Preparation  for  the  Inquisition.  193 

Panthera  and  the  priest  forced  their  way  to  a  posi- 
tion of  advantage  at  the  base  of  one  of  the  green  marble 
pillars,  near  the  foot  of  the  steps  leading  to  Herod's 
seat. 

Within  a  short  time  a  company  of  trumpeters  and 
other  musicians,  appeared  on  the  balcony  above,  all  of 
whom,  at  the  proper  signal,  were  to  help  announce  the 
presence  of  his  majesty. 

These  were  followed  by  the  priests,  scribes,  elders 
and  officers,  of  the  king's  household,  who  passed  in 
single  file  to  the  places  reserved  for  them. 

Fine  linen,  a  profusion  of  gold  lace  and  gaudy  uni- 
forms, and  the  sparkle  of  gems  and  precious  stones  con- 
trasted with  the  sombre  robes  of  the  priesthood,  as 
these  retainers  and  supporters  of  the  "king  of  the  Jews" 
took  their  positions. 

A  body-guard  of  stalwart  warriors  with  shining 
helmets,  breastplates  burnished  to  the  brightness  of 
mirrors,  armed  with  short  swords  and  carrying  leather 
shields,  marched  into  the  portico.  They  were  headed 
by  a  band  and  the  air  fairly  trembled  with  sweet  strains 
of  music  as  these  men,  clothed  in  the  uniform  of  the 
Roman  Legendary,  filled  all  the  available  space  near  the 
throne-like  structure  where  Herod  was  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment. 

Silence  fell  upon  the  spectators.  The  glitter  of  the 
gold  bullion  decorating  the  suits  of  the  warriors  dazzled 
the  eyes  of  admiring  devotees  and  disdainful  students, 
as  the  body-guard  became  motionless,  waiting  for  the 
king. 

A  gaudily  attired  herald  advanced  to  a  vacant  space 
before  the  empty  seat.  He  lifted  his  hand,  and  a  shrill 
blast  from  the  trumpets  pierced  the  air. 

"Behold  thy  king!    The  Lord's  anointed!     By  his 


194  Joachim's  Daughter. 

grace;  king  of  the  Jews!"  announced  the  herald  in  a 
clear  voice  that  vibrated  throughout  the  beautiful  gar- 
dens. 

At  this  instant,  Herod  was  discovered  coming  slowly 
from  within  the  palace.  Alexes,  the  husband  of  the 
king's  sister,  Salome,  supported  him  on  one  side,  while 
on  the  other  walked  Solan  Hai,  the  rich  and  opulent 
seer  of  Jerusalem. 

"Hail  to  the  king!"  and  again  "Long  live  the  king!" 
The  populace  shouted  itself  hoarse. 

The  face  of  Herod  was  not  an  unpleasant  one  to 
behold.  Black,  piercing  eyes,  that  had  not  lost  their 
lustre,  shone  from  under  heavy  overhanging  brows. 
A  wreath  was  bound  about  his  scanty  white  locks,  and 
the  flowing  beard  lent  dignity  to  his  commanding 
appearance.  The  bent  form  and  stern  face,  however, 
betrayed  the  ravages  of  time.  He  was  richly  clothed 
in  white  robes  trimmed  with  purple,  and  every  move- 
ment of  his  person  brought  a  gleam  of  priceless  jewels 
to  the  light  of  day.  They  adorned  his  breast,  his  throat 
and  almost  covered  his  fingers,  which  were  plump  and 
white  despite  his  age. 

He  exhibited  some  impatience  as  assistance  was  prof- 
fered him,  yet  the  weight  of  seventy  years  of  activity 
was  upon  him.  For  thirty  years  he  had  been  a  ruler, 
a  king,  a  powerful  man  and  a  mighty  general;  feared 
where  he  was  not  respected,  and,  by  many,  looked  up 
to  as  a  god.  He  sat  in  the  councils  of  his  countrymen, 
demanding,  and  expecting,  the  homage  due  his  exalted 
rank  and  station. 

His  creatures  and  retainers,  were  treated  as  slaves, 
without  distinction,  from  the  lowest  in  rank  and  grade 
to  the  highest  dignitaries. 

Fear  had  never  been  an  element  of  the  king's  charac- 


Preparation  for  the  Inquisition.  195 

ter,  except  that  within  a  short  time  previous  a  strange 
distemper  had  possessed  his  body.  Its  development 
had  disturbed  his  mind  to  an  alarming  extent.  The 
thought  of  death  had  forced  itself  upon  him,  and  he 
shrank  from  it  in  consternation  and  dread,  if  not  in 
abject  terror. 

To-day  he  rallied  and  displayed  his  customary  energy 
to  a  very  large  degree.  His  cupidity  and  avarice  were 
aroused;  in  these  propensities  there  was  no  satisfying 
him.  His  greed  for  wealth  was  ever  on  the  increase, 
that  he  might  indulge  his  love  for  profligate  display  of 
grandeur. 

He  would  not  allow  this  opportunity,  to  secure  the 
riches  of  Joachim,  to  pass  without  due  care ;  nor,  with- 
out show  of  due  process  of  law  and  justice.  Every- 
thing that  might  dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  multitude,  quiet 
his  own  conscience  and  answer  the  questions  of  the 
reckless,  who  might  be  foolhardy  enough  to  interfere 
with  the  righteousness  of  this  inquisition,  had  been 
done  and  accomplished.  Herod  was  pleased  with  the 
work. 

The  old  man  paused  for  a  moment  and  gazed  into  the 
sea  of  faces  uplifted  to  him.  Without  seeming  to  do 
so,  he  shook  off  the  supporting  hands,  and  sanctimon- 
iously raised  his  arms  and  turned  his  eyes  heavenward. 
He  then  bowed,  in  a  courtly  manner,  to  the  throng,  and, 
ascended  to  his  judgment  seat  without  further  assist- 
ance. 

A  cry  went  up.  It  seemed  to  rend  the  canopy;  to 
shake  the  very  palace. 

"A  god!  A  god!  Who  is  like  him?  Our  king — 
'The  King  of  the  Jews.'  " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

JUDGMENT    SEAT DEGRADATION. 

The  preceding  week  had  been  given  over  to  prepara- 
tions for  this  day.  The  proclamation  of  the  king  had 
been  supplemented  by  announcements,  from  the  town 
criers,  of  the  matter  that  would  occupy  the  attention  of 
the  king  and  his  subjects.  The  names  of  the  principal 
witnesses  were  also  known,  and  such  others  as  might 
know  ought  of  interest,  were  invited  to  appear  on  this 
occasion,  when  they  would  not  only  be  privileged,  but 
expected,  to  give  their  testimony,  or  submit  reasons  why 
judgment  should  not  be  entered  against  the  dead  mer- 
chant, and  his  property  be  confiscated  to  the  king,  by 
reason  of  sedition  and  treason  on  his  part,  during  his 
life  time. 

The  deceased  had  been  a  mighty  man,  a  person  of 
good  repute;  had  been  a  notable  giver  of  large  alms; 
was  remembered  as  a  friend  of  the  people.  This  show 
of  regularity  and  legal  form,  with  its  pompous  display 
of  fairness,  had  for  its  ultimate  object  an  answer,  if 
inquiries  should  be  made  by  appeal  to  Rome. 

Justification  for  this  wholesale  confiscation  could  only 
be  had  through  the  establishing  of  this  charge  against 
the  name  of  Joachim,  and  even  Herod  was  forced  to 
use  both  energy  and  precaution  in  securing  witnesses 
who  could  be  relied  upon  to  deceive  the  Jews,  not  in  the 
confidence  of  the  king,  and  the  Romans,  who  might 
investigate. 

196 


Judgment  Seat — Degradation.  197 

Nearly  all  the  priests,  scribes  and  elders,  connected 
with  the  Jewish  system  of  worship,  were  creatures  of 
Herod's  own  making  and  advancement.  They  were 
now  in  attendance,  ready  to  acquiesce  in  the  desires  of 
their  ruler,  or  perform  his  bidding. 

The  herald  advanced  to  the  front  and  demanded 
silence,  at  the  same  time  announcing : 

"All  is  now  in  readiness.  All  persons  having  know- 
ledge of  the  matter  before  the  king  are  invited  to  come 
forward  that  they  may  be  heard." 

A  lawyer,  attached  to  the  household  of  the  king, 
presented  the  information  in  which  the  charges  were 
made.  This  he  proceeded  to  read  from  a  roll.  It  was 
a  long,  systematic  arrangement  of  statements,  made 
with  the  customary  verbose,  and  redundant  allegations, 
specifications  and  particulars,  the  hearing  of  which,  if 
it  served  no  other  purpose,  went  far  toward  mystifying 
those  who  listened  and  impressing  them  with  the 
importance  of  the  document. 

Throughout  the  instrument  was  this  ever  uppermost 
prominent  charge:  "Joachim  had  maliciously,  wick- 
edly, without  fear  of  God,  or  regard  for  the  peace  and 
wellbeing  of  man,  conspired,  with  divers  other  persons 
unknown,  against  the  life  of  the  king,  the  liberty  and 
independence  of  his  countrymen." 

Witnesses  were  about  to  be  produced  who  would 
offer  testimony  in  support  of  these  charges,  and  all  of 
Joachim's  kin  and  name  were  here  given  opportunity  to 
vindicate  the  honor  of  the  dead  Israelite,  and  to  show 
cause  why  the  property,  real  and  personal,  should  not 
become  forfeit  to  the  crown. 

Panthera  listened  to  the  reading  with  deep  concern. 
Never  so  much  as  a  word  was  lost  upon  him.  Partly 
prepared  for  this  by  the  admonitions  of  the  priests,  he 


198  Joachim's  Daughter. 

was  nevertheless,  amazed  and  indignant,  beyond 
restraint  as  the  reading  of  the  cunningly  devised  instru- 
ment was  finished.  To  the  honorable  Roman,  it  had 
been  a  revelation  of  the  character  of  Herod. 

Without  stopping  to  consider,  and  before  his  com- 
panion could  interfere,  Panthera  sprang  forward  and 
began  ascending  the  steps  toward  the  king.  Knowing 
how  ill-fitted  the  soldier  must  be  to  cope  with  the 
shrewd  advocate,  who  had  prepared  the  carefully 
framed  information,  the  priest  uttered  a  low  excla- 
mation of  horror  and  followed  instantly  in  the  wake  of 
his  rash  pupil. 

Half  way  up  the  steps  he  laid  his  trembling  hand  on 
the  arm  of  the  soldier. 

"Restrain  thyself,"  he  whispered.  "Thou  wilt  injure 
thy  cause." 

A  deeper  hush  fell  upon  the  people.  The  dullest 
among  them  knew  that  a  new  element  had  entered  into 
the  plans  of  Herod.  For  a  moment  Panthera  hesitated, 
one  foot  planted  on  the  step  above,  his  face  turned 
defiantly  toward  the  surprised  king  and  his  attendants, 
he  yet  allowed  Hillel  to  detain  him  and  listened  to  the 
rapid  expostulation  of  the  thoroughly  alarmed  priest. 

This  lasted  but  a  moment,  then,  daring  and  unsub- 
dued, Panthera  cried  in  a  voice  audible  to  hundreds  of 
expectant  ears : 

"I  will  not  listen  to  such  charges !  They  are  untrue ! 
False  in  every  particular !" 

A  stir  suddenly  animated  the  assembly;  a  murmur 
of  approval  arose  and  some  of  the  students  in  their 
zeal  cried  out: 

"We  know  it!  Joachim  was  our  friend!  Proof — 
we  demand  proof !" 

Confusion  and  riot  seemed  imminent.    Under  cover 


Judgment  Seat — Degradation.  199 

of  the  commotion,  Hillel  again  attempted  to  silence  the 
soldier. 

"Wait,  I  beseech  thee,"  he  implored. 

Panthera  was  about  to  answer,  when  a  rush  of  the 
king's  troops,  carried  both  of  them  to  the  court  below 
and  compelled  them  to  mingle  with  the  turbulent  crowd 
as  the  guard  quelled  the  demonstration  in  favor  of  Pan- 
thera's  interference. 

Hillel  clung  to  the  arm  of  the  soldier,  determined 
not  to  be  separated  from  him.  He  continued  to  protest, 
most  vigorously,  until  at  last  Panthera  yielded  to  the 
reasonable  importunities  and  quietly  returned  to  his 
former  position. 

The  crowd  willingly  made  way  for  the  champion  of 
their  dead  countryman.  The  students  gathered  near 
and  by  their  demeanor,  gestures  and  language  gave 
unmistakable  indication  of  their  intention  to  render 
Panthera  active  support,  should  occasion  require  their 
assistance.  These  young  men  were  satisfied  that  a 
grave  injury  was  about  to  be  inflicted  against  the 
revered  name  of  their  patron. 

Solan  Hai  whispered  something  to  the  lawyer,  evi- 
dently calling  his  attention  to  the  soldier,  for  the  watch- 
ful eyes  of  the  advocate-  turned,  in  keen  discrimination, 
to  the  group  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  The  king,  also, 
was  ga/ing  at  the  soldier,  who  had  become  the  center 
of  interest  for  the  time  being. 

Again  the  advocate  took  a  position  before  the  king, 
and  in  full  view  of  the  people.  It  was  a  signal  for 
attention.  Addressing  the  king,  the  priests,  scribes 
and  elders,  he  dwelt  in  detail  upon  what  had  already 
been  read  from  the  roll.  He  concluded  with  a  grand 
and  eloquent  peroration,  in  which  he  pledged  himself 
to  prove  the  allegations  contained  in  the  information. 


2oo  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Immediately  at  the  conclusion  of  the  oration  a  shout 
was  raised  lauding  the  advocate  of  the  king.  And 
again  did  the  people  hail  Herod,  "king  of  kings," 
"prince  of  potentates"  and  "savior  of  his  country." 

The  clamor  had  been  skillfully  arranged,  and  was 
a  sure  index  of  the  result  which  might  be  expected. 
Renegade  Jews  and  foreigners  were  ready  at  signal  to 
make  outburst  and  demonstration  in  favor  of  the  ends 
in  view. 

"Solan  Hai!  Solan  Hai!  Solan  Hai!"  called  the 
herald. 

The  uncouth  figure  of  the  wizard  was  brought  into 
prominence  as  he  stepped  briskly  to  the  place  assigned 
witnesses  while  testifying.  The  experience  was  not  a 
new  one  for  him  and  he  looked  boldly  toward  the  advo- 
cate, who  was  to  conduct  the  inquiry. 

As  a  witness,  Solan  Hai  was  all  the  king  could  have 
wished.  He  set  forth  distinctly  and  with  all  possible 
plainness,  the  facts  and  circumstances  charged  against 
Joachim.  The  knowledge,  he  professed,  had  been 
obtained  from  diligent  observation  and  personal  inquir- 
ies on  his  part  in  pursuing  the  various  clews  that  had  led 
to  the  unearthing  of  the  plot  against  the  king,  and 
from  numerous  other  sources.  He  dwelt,  at  great 
length,  upon  matters  pertaining  to  the  meeting  of  the 
wise  men  near  Hebron;  coloring  and  emphasizing  so 
as  to  make  the  most  of  the  meager  facts  in  his  posses- 
sion. 

The  wizard  returned  to  his  place,  close  to  the  king, 
at  the  close  .of  the  examination  of  his  important  self, 
and  waited,  lynx-eyed,  for  the  next  witness.  This 
proved  to  be  one  of  the  servants  of  Joachim,  who  had 
been  with  the  wealthy  Jew  at  the  camp. 

He  explained,  with  great  minuteness,  the  forming  of 


Judgment  Seat — Degradation.  201 

the  camp  at  the  place  near  Hebron  and  the  arrival  of  the 
persons  who  had  been  visitors  there ;  described  in  detail 
the  completeness  of  their  traveling  outfit,  well  equipped, 
having  horses  and  camels  to  spare  and  a  corps  of  well 
trained  attendants. 

That  they  were  from  the  East,  he  knew  because  they 
had  come  from  that  direction  and  returned  over  the 
same  route,  and  on  several  occasions  they  had  men- 
tioned India,  Babylonia  and  Arabia.  They  must  have 
been  persons  of  extensive  knowledge,  for  they  had 
displayed  a  good  show  of  learning  and  culture. 

The  witness  believed  that  they  were  princes  and,  in 
all  likelihood,  eastern  kings.  The  witness  had  over- 
heard much  of  the  conversation  between  Joachim  and 
his  mysterious  guests.  Frequent  mention  had  been 
made  of  the  expected  king,  a  mighty  personage,  an 
irresistable  warrior,  who  would  overcome  all  enemies 
and  vanquish  all  governments.  The  time  for  the  dis- 
play of  this  coming  man's  wondrous  power  was  at 
hand.  There  could  be  no  mistake ;  the  witness  had  heard 
with  his  own  ears  all  the  story.  He  believed  Joachim 
had  arranged  this  meeting  for  the  sole  purpose  of  enter- 
taining these  same  people,  who  had  been  his  guests, 
because  he  had  broken  camp  immediately  after  the 
departure  of  the  easterners. 

The  servant  recounted,  with  great  volubility  and 
braggadocio,  the  story  of  the  attack  on  the  camp  on 
the  morning  of  the  day  when  his  master  had  died; 
told  of  his  own  resistance  and  brave  defense  until 
relieved  by  one  Caius  Panthera,  a  soldier  who  had 
arrived  but  a  short  time  before,  and  who  was  holding 
conference  with  Joachim  at  the  time  of  the  onslaught. 
He  gave  credit  to  the  soldier  for  service  rendered  in  the 
extremity  of  need,  and  told  how  the  Roman  had 


202  Joachim's  Daughter. 

mounted  his  horse  and  galloped  after  the  man  who  had 
stolen  the  beloved  Mary. 

The  witness  identified  the  soldier  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps  as  the  rescuer  of  Joachim's  daughter  and  further 
testified  that  the  same  soldier  had  been  with  Mary  and 
Joseph,  but  a  day  or  so  since,  when  Mary  returned  to 
the  camp  and  directed  the  disposal  of  the  outfit. 

Throughout  the  questioning  of  this  witness  Solan 
Hai  seemed  to  be  compelling  the  answers  that  fell  from 
his  lips.  The  wizard  had  a  powerful  control  over  the 
man.  He  had  bought  him  with  gold. 

Other  witnesses  were  now  sworn.  Many  of  them 
knowing  nothing  more  than  what  they  had  been  told. 
The  interest  waned  and  the  spectators  began  to  con- 
verse among  themselves. 

Simon  Gatzor,  the  merchant  from  Hebron,  was 
called  and  the  interest  revived. 

He  said  in  substance  that  Joachim  had  been  his  coun- 
tryman ;  that  the  town  of  Nazareth  had  been  the  home 
of  the  dead  Jew,  and  their  friendly  intercourse  had 
extended  over  a  number  of  years,  during  which  time 
they  had  engaged  in  many  business  transactions. 

In  the  presence  of  this  witness,  Joachim  had  fre- 
quently denied  the  right  of  Herod  to  the  title  "King  of 
the  Jews" ;  had  declared  that  one  would  soon  appear 
who  would  destroy  the  present  government  and  set  up 
a  kingdom  at  Jerusalem — Rome  would  be  completely 
overthrown  and  subjugated,  while  the  Jewish  nation 
would  become  the  head  of  all  nations.  The  witness 
knew  that  Joachim  had  met  with  others  of  this  same 
belief,  most  of  whom  were  from  the  far  East,  and  who 
spoke  a  tongue  with  which  he,  Simon  Gatzor,  was  not 
acquainted. 

He  testified  as  to  the  presence  of  Panthera  at  Hebron 


Judgment  Seat — Degradation.  203 

on  the  evening  of  the  day  of  Joachim's  death.  The 
soldier  had  been  the  guest  of  the  witness  and  had  left 
his  home  very  mysteriously,  without  so  much  as  saying 
a  word  of  farewell. 

More  than  all  this  he  mentioned  a  personal  grievance 
against  the  Roman.  The  latter  had  thrown  a  spell  about 
Alta,  the  daughter  of  the  witness.  He  declared  that  her 
natural  kindly  disposition  was  changed,  so  that  she  was 
regardless  of  the  wishes  of  her  parent;  that  since  the 
departure  of  •  the  man  she  had  been  entirely  beyond 
control.  All  this,  the  witness  verily  believed,  was  due 
to  the  baneful  influence  of  this  soldier. 

Panthera  was  pointed  out  to  the  witness  and  he 
promptly  recognized  him  as  the  destroyer  of  the  peace 
of  Alta. 

Herod  was  frowning  darkly.  He  would  know  what 
Panthera  had  to  do  with  this  conspiracy,  why  he  had 
been  so  much  with  Joachim  and,  afterward,  with  Mary, 
for  what  reason  he  had  become  the  guest  of  Simon 
Gatzor. 

"Let  the  soldier  answer!"  sharply  interposed  the 
king.  "Stand  aside,"  to  the  advocate.  "I,  myself  will 
examine  him.  Let  his  name  be  called." 

"Caius  Panthera!"  The  herald  shouted  the  name 
three  times. 

Almost  before  the  tones  died  away  the  Roman  stood 
before  the  king. 

"One  of  the  German  retinue,  thou  art  a  hired  sold- 
ier ?"  demanded  the  king  in  austere  tones. 

"Aye,"  responded  the  Roman.  "In  the  pay  of  the 
'King  of  the  Jews.'  " 

"To  betray  him  to  his  enemies  ?" 

"I  trust  not,"  answered  Panthera  proudly.  "I  am 
a  soldier,  and  a  Roman." 


204  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  hast  heard  the  testimony  of  these  witnesses. 
Thou  may'st  answer,"  said  Herod,  stern  displeasure 
growing  in  his  voice.  "Proceed." 

"I  am  pleased,  oh,  king,  that  thy  servant  is  thus 
given  opportunity  to  defend  the  name  and  fame  of  an 
inoffensive  old  man,  who  loved  his  God  and  revered  and 
obeyed  the  law  of  one  Moses,  an  ancient  lawgiver  of 
Israel,  and  had  an  affectionate  place  in  his  heart  for 
his  countrymen  and  a  kindly  regard  for  the  rest  of 
mankind. 

"That  instantly  serving  God,  day  and  night,  he, 
together  with  many  other  holy  and  devout  men,  did 
look  forward  to  the  redemption  of  the  promises  made 
of  God  to  his  fathers,  is  most  true.  From  the  house  of 
David,  of  which  he  was  a  descendant,  being  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah,  he  looked  for  a  king  who  would  rule 
his  people  in  equity  and  righteousness. 

"I  regret  that  it  was  not  my  lot  to  have  had  an 
acquaintance  with  Joachim.  He  was  not  a  soldier  nor 
a  warrior;  neither  was  he  engaged  in  conspiring  with 
others  against  the  rule  of  Caesar  nor,  thine,  oh,  king. 
But  if  the  Israelitish  people  would  testify  before  thee 
this  day,  thou  would'st  know  that  they  believe  the 
promises  made  of  God  unto  their  fathers;  to  which 
promises  the  tribes  of  Israel  cling  from  day  to  day,  and 
hope  to  come. 

"Is  it  not  true,  ye  priests  of  Jerusalem  ?  Do  ye  not 
expect  a  king  from  the  royal  house  of  David  who  shall 
triumph  over  all  and  rule  the  world?  What  say  ye, 
priests,  scribes  and  elders?  Answer!" 

The  fervor  of  the  soldier,  his  daring  and  the  force 
of  his  words  carried  the  cause  of  Joachim  closer  to  the 
Jews.  With  one  accord  the  prominent  men  present 
murmured  assent  to  the  time-honored  prediction  and 


Judgment  Seat — Degradation.  205 

expectation.  Hillel,  above  all,  fearlessly  exclaimed,  in 
a  voice  of  conviction : 

"We  do.  Most  certainly  we  do  expect  a  king  who 
shall  fulfill  the  prophecy  made  by  the  fathers.  Thou 
art  right." 

The  king  understood.  His  frown  deepened  to  a 
scowl  of  displeasure  and  fear. 

"Go  to,"  he  cried.  "I  do  not  desire  to  hear  further 
of  this  wondrous  person  expected  by  the  Jews.  Nor 
did  I  wish  thee  to  speak  of  Joachim,  whom,  out  of 
thine  own  mouth,  thou  hast  condemned  and  proven  a 
rebel  and  a  seditious  person. 

"In  thine  own  behalf  thou  wert  called.  Thou  hast 
chosen  to  disregard  thy  opportunity.  Thou  art 
degraded,  and  dismissed  from  the  service.  Thy  case 
shall  be  sent  to  Caesar.  In  the  meantime,  thou  art  lim- 
ited to  Jerusalem  and  Judea.  Report  every  week  until 
charges  shall  be  duly  preferred  against  thee  and  inquiry 
be  made.  Thou  may'st  be  thankful  thou  art  not  confined 
in  Antonia,  or  sent  in  chains  to  Rome. 

"Of  this  Joachim  matter  my  judgment  will  be  deliv- 
ered later. 

"My  people !"  he  cried  rising  and  extending  his  arms 
toward  the  gaping  crowd.  "Remain  here.  This  day 
I  will  distribute  to  each  a  gift  in  commemoration  of 
this  deliverance  from  danger.  Shout  thy  praises  to 
God  who  preserveth  his  children  from  the  evil  designs 
of  men." 

The  music  swelled  into  the  air.    The  rabble  shouted : 

"Hail  to  the  king !    The  Lord's  anointed !" 


CHAPTER  XXL 

THE  BETROTHAL THE   WARNING. 

It  was  night  and  the  cold  gray  sky  was  spangled 
with  myriads  of  stars.  Silence  reigned,  the  palpable 
stillness  of  the  advanced  evening.  The  philosopher, 
Hababli  Hillel,  Caius  Panthera  and  the  beautiful 
daughter  of  Joachim  stood  near  the  memorial  stones 
placed  to  commemorate  the  angel  visitation  to  Jacob, 
over  twenty-five  hundred  years  before. 

The  calm  features  of  Hillel  wore  a  look  of  loving 
tenderness  as  he  gazed  upon  the  two  who  stood  before 
him. 

"My  children,"  he  was  saying,  "thou  wilt  join  thy 
right  hands.  Thou,  Panthera,  will  repeat  after  me: 

"In  the  presence  of  heaven,  with  its  canopy  over  me, 
by  the  silver  shining  stars;  by  the  sacred  associations 
and  memories  of  this  hallowed  spot ;  by  the  declaration 
of  the  patriarch,  Jacob ;  that,  'it  is  the  gate  of  heaven' ; 
by  all  that  I  hold  dear  in  this  world,  or  hope  for  in  the 
world  to  come,  do  I,  Caius  Panthera,  swear  fealty  to 
the  maiden  at  my  side,  whose  constant,  loving  husband 
I  shall  be. 

"I  solemnly  promise  at  this,  my  espousal  to  Mary, 
whose  hand  is  clasped  in  mine,  that  I  will  cherish  and 
protect  her,  whether  in  health  or  sickness,  in  riches  or 
in  proverty,  in  her  age,  as  in  her  youth.  I  will  defend 
and  love  her  above  all  others,  so  long  as  I  may  live. 
I  accept  her  as  my  betrothed  wife,  and  place. this  circle 

206 


The  Betrothal — The  Warning.  207 

on  her  ringer  as  a  token  of  endless  love.  May  the  God 
of  Israel  keep  me  true  and  steadfast  to  these,  my  vows." 

The  clear  music  of  the  Roman's  voice  thrilled  the 
heart  of  Mary  as  she  listened  to  this  formal  declaration. 
Her  trusting  soul  was  uplifted  by  a  great  hope  of  hap- 
piness as  she  realized  the  depth  of  affection  that  was 
given  her.  She  lifted  her  eyes,  brimming  with  tears, 
to  the  face  of  the  priest,  but  her  voice  never  faltered 
as  she  reverently  repeated  after  him  the  beautiful 
formula : 

"Sacred  to  my  heart  is  the  God  of  my  people.  The 
law  of  the  Lord  is  my  stay,  a  guide  unto  my  feet,  and  a 
light  unto  my  steps.  Let  my  mind  be  inclined  to  the 
oracles  of  God.  May  I  bring  these  graces  to  my  hus- 
band, Caius  Panthera,  with  all  else  I  am  possessed  of 
in  this  world. 

"I  promise  that  I  will  encourage  him  in  joy  and  in 
sorrow ;  trust  him  without  wavering ;  love  him  without 
faltering;  for  him,  bear  all  things,  endure  all  things, 
believe  all  things,  and  hope  all  things,  so  long  as  I  shall 
live.  May  the  angel  messengers  of  Israel's  God  hear 
my  vows  and  preserve  me  ever  steadfast." 

The  hand  of  the  aged  priest  trembled,  as  he  laid  it 
in  benediction  on  the  head  of  the  devoted  maid. 

"So  be  it!"  he  said.  "May  the  richest  blessings  of 
heaven  fall  upon  thee,  my  children.  May  thou  be 
blessed  in  thy  going  out  and  in  thy  coming  in ;  in  basket 
and  in  store.  May  thine  enemies  be  destroyed  and 
those  who  befriend  thee  be  preserved.  May  thy  child- 
ren be  a  crown  of  glory  to  thee  and  thine  and  all  the 
world  besides.  Should  a  son  be  born  to  thee;  grant 
that  he  may  be  a  pillar  of  strength,  a  strong  tower  and 
fortress,  a  light  for  thine  eyes,  a  joy  to  thine  heart  and 


2o8  Joachim's  Daughter. 

a  never  ending  source  of  comfort  and  peace  to  thee 
and  all  the  rest  of  mankind." 

The  espoused  maid  and  her  lover  had  bowed  their 
heads  while  the  priest  was  speaking.  At  mention  of  the 
last  word  the  clear  canopy  above  them  took  on  a  lighter 
hue ;  it  brightened  until  the  three  saw  each  other's  faces 
as  in  the  white  light  of  noonday.  A  stir  in  the  air,  as 
of  the  rustle  of  wings,  lifted  the  clinging  tendrils  of 
curling  hair  from  Mary's  brow.  The  light  and  the 
wind  lasted  but  for  an  instant,  long  enough  for  Mary 
to  look  into  the  eyes  of  her  espoused  husband  and  read 
the  longing  love  that  answered  her  soulful  glance.  As 
the  brightness  died  away,  he  swept  her  into  his  arms, 
where  she  clung,  quivering  in  his  tightening  grasp. 
Bending  over  her  he  lifted  the  tearful  face  and  rever- 
ently kissed  Jier. 

"Mary,  my  own,"  he  murmured.  "My  life — my 
wife!  Look  into  my  face — into  my  eyes.  Tell  me 
dost  thou  love  me?" 

"My  lord,  my  husband !"  she  answered.  "Can  it  be 
that  thou  would'st  question  my  love  for  thee?" 

"No,"  he  cried,  "I  will  not.  I  do  not,  but,  I  would 
hear  thee  say  thou  lovest,  'tis  music  in  my  ears." 

"I  worship  thee,"  exclaimed  Mary  and  she  nestled 
her  head  close  to  his  bosom  lest  he  knew  too  well  the 
joy  that  transfigured  her  enraptured  face. 

Panthera  turned  to  where  his  faithful  friend,  the 
priest,  had  stood.  Hillel  had  withdrawn — they  were 
alone. 

At  that  moment  the  form  of  a  man  glided  swiftly 
into  the  dark  shadows  of  the  night.  It  was  not  the 
priest,  another  had  witnessed  the  rite  of  betrothal 
between  Panthera,  now  a  Jewisl>>proselyte,  and  the 
daughter  of  the  Jew,  Joachim. 


The  Betrothal — The  Warning.  209 

When  Hillel  entered  his  humble  abode  he  found 
Joseph  seated  before  the  table  in  the  front  room.  The 
man's  head  was  bent  and  rested  on  his  arms.  He  did 
not  move.  Hillel  approached  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  guest,  who  started  up  as  though  from 
a  dream. 

"Wert  thou  sleeping,  my  friend?"  asked  Hillel. 

"No,"  Joseph  answered,  "thinking,  dreaming — 
enduring  my  own  misery."  He  turned  a  face  of  ashy 
paleness  toward  his  questioner. 

Hillel  saw  that  Joseph  had  been  weeping  and  he 
beheld  the  haggard  countenance  of  his  guest  with  con- 
sternation. 

"What,  I  pray,  hath  disturbed  thee?"  he  asked,  in 
anxious  solicitude. 

"Nothing — I  thank  thee,  nothing.  I  will  seek 
repose,"  and  Joseph  abruptly  ended  the  interview  by 
passing  from  the  room. 

"What  can  have  troubled  the  faithful  Joseph  ?"  won- 
dered Hillel. 

Mary  and  Panthera  entered  at  the  moment.  Their 
faces  were  suffused  with  the  happy  glow  of  love.  Again 
did  Hillel  affectionately  bless  them  as  they  bade  him 
"good  night." 


At  Jerusalem,  a  few  hours  later,  a  dust-stained  trav- 
eler awoke  Solan  Hai,  who  gave  him  immediate 
audience. 

"Costa,  my  friend,  thou  art  a  jewel,"  was  the  sole 
comment  of  the  wizard  after  listening  to  a  report  from 
the  man. 

The  statement  of  Costa  was  of  much  value  to  Solan 


2io  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Hai — it  was  the  news  of  the  betrothal.  Thus  another 
became  acquainted  with  the  matter  that  was  designed 
to  be  imparted  to  only  the  immediate  friends  of  Mary. 

It  had  been  agreed  that  Mary  should  accompany 
Joseph  to  his  home  at  Nazareth;  while  Panthera 
returned  to  Jerusalem  to  answer  the  charge  of  disloy- 
alty to  the  king.  Accordingly  the  soldier,  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  committed  to  the  care  of  her  country- 
man the  fair  maid,  with  whom  he  was  fain  to  linger, 
and  with  much  apprehension  departed  on  his  way  to  the 
city. 

For  days  he  waited,  having  taken  up  his  abode  at  the 
college,  that  he  might  learn  more  of  the  Jewish  cus- 
toms and  beliefs. 

He  grew  weary  and  discouraged  as  time  dragged, 
when,  one  morning  the  captain  of  the  king's  guard  per- 
sonally called  on  him  with  the  information  that  an 
interview  with  the  king  would  be  required  on  the  fol- 
lowing afternoon.  The  captain  vouchsafed  no  further 
information.  What  misfortune  awaited  him,  the  soldier 
could  not  know.  He  was  aware  that  power  and  interest 
would  be  required  in  his  behalf,  when  he  remembered 
that  Solan  Hai  was  an  avowed  enemy.  The  fact  that 
there  was  more  than  a  mere  coloring  in  the  charge  of 
treason,  which  might  be  brought,  loomed  before  him 
with  vivid  distinctness.  He  understood  that  it  would 
not  be  difficult  for  the  subtle  methods  of  this  man  to 
produce  proof  sufficient  to  sustain  any  accusation  he 
might  see  fit  to  make. 

The  thing  that  darkened  his  soul  was  the  thought  of 
separation  from  the  beautiful  maid,  who  was  all  in  all 
to  him.  Now  that  he  was  assured  of  her  love,  it  was  a 
sore  trial  of  fortitude  to  remember  that  he  might  enter 


The  Betrothal — The  Warning.  211 

the  doors  of  Antonia,  never  to  see  her  more.  The  possi- 
bility did  not  seem  remote. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  intending  to  find  Hillel;  to 
consult  with  him;  to  entrust  a  message  of  tenderest 
love  and  advice  in  case  he  were  to  be  deprived  of  the 
right  to  protect  his  lovely  fiancee.  He  began  to  upbraid 
himself  for  the  selfishness  that  had  allowed  him  to 
bind  Mary  by  a  promise,  when  it  might  render  her  a 
mourner  for  a  lost  love. 

He  learned  that  Hillel  had  not  returned  to  the  city; 
that  he  was  not  expected,  and  in  the  anguish  of  mind, 
that  he  suffered,  determined  to  confide  in  Judas.  That 
learned,  kindly  teacher,  received  the  soldier  with  cor- 
dial greetings.  In  truth  Judas  had  learned  to  love  the 
noble  Roman.  From  that  interview  Panthera  went 
forth  as  one  uplifted — sustained  by  a  consciousness  of 
innate  rectitude. 

The  day  after  at  the  appointed  hour,  he  approached 
the  palace.  There  was  a  feeling  of  relief  in  his  heart  as 
he  realized,  that  before  the  sun  should  sink  behind  the 
mountains  of  Judea,  he  would  know  what  was  in  store 
for  him. 

The  grounds  were  crowded  with  soldiers  and  citi- 
zens. Many  of  the  former  had  been  his  companions  in 
arms  and  friends  of  Panthera.  They  greeted  him  in 
the  off-hand  manner,  characteristic  of  the  soldier  and, 
in  spite  of  his  misgivings,  the  cheerful  familiarity  gave 
him  courage.  The  honest,  heartfelt  well  wishes  of 
these  comrades  went  far  to  strengthen  the  soldier  for 
the  coming  ordeal. 

To  be  accused  of  disloyalty,  suspended  from  service 
in  his  company  and  summarily  dismissed  from  the  pre- 
sence of  Herod,  had  been  a  keen  mortification.  He  had 


2)2  Joachim's  Daughter. 

not  appeared  among  these  companions  since  the  day  of 
the  hearing. 

A  herald  called  the  distinguished  name  "Caius  Pan- 
thera !"  He  responded,  instantly,  following  the  courtly 
young  usher  into  the  presence  of  his  majesty — the  king. 

With  grave  courtesy  the  soldier  bowed  before  the 
ruler,  but  in  his  demeanor  was  none  of  that  which  sues 
for  mercy.  In  proud  self-possession  he  stood  awaiting 
the  pleasure  of  Herod. 

"Caius  Panthera,"  spoke  the  king,  "thou  hast  been 
charged  with  a  grave  and  serious  offense,  not  only 
against  the  'king  of  the  Jews,'  but  also,  against  Augus- 
tus and  the  Senate.  I  have  made  diligent  inquiry  into 
the  facts  and  circumstances  connected  with  these 
charges."  The  speaker  paused  and  looked  curiously  into 
the  face  of  his  auditor.  "I  am  of  the  opinion  that  thy 
conduct  was  most  exemplary  and  circumspect,"  he 
continued.  "Thou  art  restored  to  the  company  of  the 
German  retinue,  with  the  vindication  of  the  king,  and 
commended  as  a  brave  soldier,  a  true  and  loyal  citizen 
of  Rome,  and  a  liege  retainer  of  the  fortunes  of  Herod, 
'king  of  the  Jews.'  ' 

An  exclamation  of  glad  surprise  rose  to  the  lips  of 
Panthera. 

The  stern,  relentless  monarch  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
confusion  of  the  soldier,  thrown  off  his  guard  by  this 
good  fortune,  as  no  disaster,  in  the  power  of  Herod  to 
cause,  would  have  effected  him. 

"Not  a  word,"  said  the  king.  "Join  thy  company, 
forthwith."  He  gave  a  signal.  A  blast  of  trumpets 
echoed  through  the  magnificent  corridors  of  the  beauti- 
ful building.  The  clanging  of  swords  and  shields 
mingled  with  the  trumpet  sounds,  and  a  rush  of  soldiers 


The  Betrothal — The  Warning.  213 

fairly  carried  Panthera  to  the  outer  court  before  he  had 
recovered  from  his  astonishment. 

In  the  midst  of  the  congratulations  that  were  show- 
ered upon  him  an  officer  placed  in  his  hands  a  written 
permit  for  absence  from  duty  for  the  space  of  three 
months.  The  largess  of  the  king. 

A  dream  of  peace  and  happiness  floated  before  the 
bewildered  senses  of  the  soldier.  He  thought  only  of 
Mary,  the  maid  of  his  choice.  He  would  lose  no  pre- 
cious time.  He  would  repair  at  once  to  Nazareth,  and 
inform  her  of  his  good  fortune,  that  his  rejoicing  might 
be  doubled  through  her  thankful  pleasure. 

The  next  day  Panthera  once  more  donned  the  splen- 
did uniform  of  his  company  and  prepared  to  depart  for 
a  time  from  the  city.  As  he  passed  through  the  gate 
a  firm  hand  was  laid  on  his  bridle  rein. 

"Caius  Panthera!"  cried  a  deep  voice.  "Trust  not 
too  much  to  the  snake,  that  fawns  and  allures,  only  to 
strike  and  kill.  Fly  to  Rome,  the  only  place  where 
safety  is  for  thee  and  thine.  I  have  warned  thee.  For- 
get it  not !" 

The  soldier  looked  down  in  startled  attention.  He 
saw  a  strange  figure,  clothed  in  a  dark  grab  that 
covered  the  entire  body,  while  the  disguise  was  com- 
pleted by  a  cowl  drawn  over  the  face.  Before  the  rider 
could  question,  the  hold  on  the  rein  was  relinquished 
and  the  strange  apparition  disappeared  in  the  crowd. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

LIVING  OR  DEAD,  I   WILL  RETURN. 

The  picturesque  village  of  Nazareth,  its  white  dwell- 
ings covered  with  clinging  vines,  appeared  to  be  a  most 
desirable  destination  when  viewed  from  a  distance.  Its 
narrow  streets  were  not  discernable,  neither  was  the 
deplorable  condition  of  squallor,  that  prevailed  in  many 
parts,  perceptible. 

Oxen  plowed  the  little  valley  below  the  town  and  the 
fields  of  the  great  plain  beyond ;  while  mules,  asses  and 
camels  bore  their  burdens  up  the  mountain  track,  as 
they  had  done  for  centuries  before. 

The  most  conspicuous  object,  in  the  view  of  an 
approaching  traveler,  was  the  synagogue.  It  occupied 
the  most  sightly  place  in  the  village,  an  evidence  of 
the  reverence  and  devotion  of  the  inhabitants  for  the 
God  of  their  fathers. 

Joachim  had  been  well  known  and  loved  by  the 
dwellers  within  this  village.  His  memory  was  held  in 
respect,  and  they  welcomed  Joseph  home  in  true 
Hebrew  style;  while  Mary  was  greeted  as  the  special 
ward  of  all  the  people  of  Nazareth,  the  town  of  her 
nativity. 

As  is  the  case,  in  every  small  place,  the  people  were 
familiar  one  with  another.  The  market  days,  Mondays 
and  Thursdays,  the  often  recurring  fasts  and  feasts,  and 
the  Sabbaths,  so  brought  the  villagers  together  that 
news  quickly  became  general.  So  it  was  that  the  facts 

214 


Living  or  Dead,  I  will  Return.  215 

surrounding  the  death  of  their  former  townsman,  were 
well  canvassed  by  the  residents  even  before  the  arrival 
of  Joseph  and  his  ward. 

The  heroic  rescue  of  Mary  had  been  a  common  topic 
of  conversation  and  much  curiosity  was  aroused  as  to 
the  Roman  soldier,  who  was  said  to  have  saved  the 
honor  and  life  of  Joachim's  daughter. 

Panthera  had  accomplished  his  journey  and  was 
approaching  the  home  of  Mary.  Many  inquiring 
glances  were  directed  to  the  handsome  stranger  as  he 
rode  toward  the  center  of  the  town,  his  brilliant  uni- 
form attracting  attention  at  every  turn. 

At  length  he  drew  rein  at  the  khan  and  secured  an 
attendant  for  his  horse.  His  inquiry  for  Joseph,  was 
answered  promptly,  and  full  directions  were  given  as  to 
his  place  of  residence.  In  accordance  with  these,  Pan- 
thera walked  rapidly  through  the  winding  streets  into 
the  better  part  of  the  town. 

He  paused  before  a  white  abode  in  the  midst  of  a 
fragrant  garden.  Roses  and  other  bright  blossoms,  in 
profusion,  filled  the  air  with  perfume — a  sweet  welcome 
to  the  unexpected  guest.  Whirling  doves  circled  above 
his  head,  and  away  to  their  cot,  as  Panthera  made  his 
way  along  the  trim  path.  The  habitation  gave  no  signs 
of  occupation.  Could  it  be  that  he  had  mistaken  the 
place  or  that  those  he  sought  were  absent  ? 

As  he  stood,  irresolutely  looking  about,  a  glance 
toward  the  street  revealed  Mary,  herself,  coming  to 
the  gate.  She  saw  the  soldier  and  quickened  her  steps 
in  joyful  surprise.  A  few  paces  from  Panthera  she 
suddenly  paused.  The  bright  uniform  had  not  been 
worn  by  her  lover  when  he  bade  her  farewell — he  had 
been  in  disgrace,  under  charges  of  dishonor,  now  he 
returned  more  resplendent  than  before. 


216  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Panthera  had  overlooked  this  cause,  and  he 
approached  Mary,  full  of  astonishment  at  her  abrupt 
pause.  He  held  his  hands  out  to  her. 

"Hast  thou  no  welcome?    Dost  thou  fear  me?" 

"The  uniform,"  she  explained  allowing  her  hands  to 
remain  in  the  loving  grasp. 

"My  love,  I  had  forgotten.  Herod  hath  restored  me 
to  my  place  in  the  company ;  completely  exonerated  thy 
Iqyer,  and  graciously  given  him  leave  of  three  months." 

Mary's  rosebud  face  flushed  with  pleasurable  emo- 
tion. What  a  glad  ending  this  to  her  suspense.  She 
looked  at  the  manly  beauty  of  the  soldier,  displayed  to 
advantage  by  the  becoming  costume,  and  pride  swelled 
warmly  into  her  thankful  heart. 

She  invited  Panthera  into  the  tasty  dwelling,  a  more 
pretentious  place  than  most  of  those  in  Nazareth,  and 
they  were  presently  joined  by  Joseph. 
<  "Thou  art  welcome  to  our  home,"  observed  the 
guardian  slowly.  But  a  look  of  pain  glided  across  his 
features  as  he  spoke,  and  Panthera  felt  a  tremble  in  the 
hand  clasp.  What  could  have  given  annoyance  to  this 
worthy  man?  The  question  was  the  sole  mar  to  the 
delight  of  the  Roman. 

Days  passed  into  weeks,  weeks  grew  into  months. 
The  soldier  lingered,  and,  to  the  interested  villagers,  he 
appeared  to  have  taken  up  a  permanent  residence  in 
Nazareth.  During  this  time  he  obtained  a  place  in  the 
good  graces  of  the  people  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact. 

He  was  a  constant  attendant,  with  Joseph  and  Mary, 
at  the  synagogue,  participating  with  them  in  all  the 
observances  according  to  the  law  of  Moses.  Moreover, 
he  was  on  intimate  terms  with  the  Rabbi  and  the  other 


Living  or  Dead,  I  will  Return.  217 

priests,  scribes  and  elders  who  administered  the  rites 
of  the  sacred  place. 

From  all  these  indications  the  curious  ones  might 
have  been  pardoned  for  the  statement,  given  as  fact, 
that  the  soldier  had  become  a  convert  to  the  true  faith, 
had  submitted  to  the  rite  of  circumcision,  and  was  being 
instructed  in  the  law  of  Moses,  the  holy  oracles  and 
the  traditions  of  the  fathers. 

His  constant  attendance  upon  the  ward  of  Joseph  did 
not  pass  without  comment,  especially  among  those  of 
Mary's  own  sex,  who  were  jealous  for  the  good  name 
of  the  Jewish  maiden,  yet  many  of  whom  would  have 
been  willing  to  share  with  her  the  responsibility  of 
entertaining  the  cultured  stranger. 

The  gossips  failed  to  penetrate  the  mystery,  and  the 
constancy  on  his  part  at  last  provoked  animosity  and 
scorn.  It  began  to  be  whispered  that  no  good  would 
come  from  this  protracted  visit;  that,  to  say  the  least, 
Mary  was  very  imprudent ;  that  Joseph  should  concern 
himself  and  look  into  the  matter. 

Strange  to  say,  when  Joseph  was  approached,  he  cut 
all  questioning  short  by  informing  the  interrogators 
that  it  was  an  affair  concerning  only  the  two  principals, 
in  which  he  would  not  interfere.  This  much  said,  he 
invariably  went  away,  leaving  the  committee  on  the 
affairs  of  others  to  settle  the  matter  of  their  mortifica- 
tion and  chagrin  as  best  they  might. 

About  six  weeks  after  the  advent  of  the  interesting 
soldier,  an  occurrence  of  more  than  passing  importance 
aroused  and  piqued  the  curiosity  of  the  zealous  neigh- 
bors. 

One,  evening,  at  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  two 
travelers  were  seen  wending  their  way  along  the  nar- 
row road  leading  from  the  south  toward  Nazareth. 


2?  8  Joachim's  Daughter. 

They  were  both  aged  men,  one  of  them,  in  particular, 
being  well  stricken  in  years. 

They  entered  the  village  and  rode  to  the  khan,  where 
they  left  their  horses,  as  Panthera  had  done.  Unlike 
the  soldier,  however,  they  did  not  make  inquiries,  but 
started  as  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  way  they  go. 

One  of  the  travelers  was  Hillel,  the  teacher  and 
friend  of  Panthera,  the  other,  a  brother  priest. 

They  took  their  way  directly  to  the  home  of  Joseph, 
where  they  tarried  for  the  space  of  three  days.  During 
which  time  the  newsmongers  noticed  that  they  were  on 
friendly  terms  and  intimately  associated  with  the  sold- 
ier guest. 

On  the  third  night,  light  glimmered  from  the  habita- 
tion until  a  late  hour.  To  add  to  the  mystery  of  the 
matter,  the  venerable  priests  departed  in  the  night,  and 
before  any  one  had  learned  ought  of  their  mission. 
These  inquisitive  Nazareens  believed  themselves 
entitled  to  some  degree  of  confidence,  but  their  care- 
fully discreet  insinuations  gained  them  no  information 
in  regard  to  the  untoward  actions  of  the  soldier,  and 
the  unusual  transactions  that  must  have  taken  place 
within  their  hitherto  orderly  precincts. 

The  reason  for  the  entry  and  mysterious  exit  of  the 
priests  was  withheld,  which  fact  only  whetted  the  cur- 
iosity of  the  Jews.  Joseph  informed  his  most  intimate 
friends,  that  a  long  journey,  which  lay  before  his 
guests,  necessitated  their  early  departure — nothing 
more. 

The  longer  the  soldier  remained  the  more  attentive 
he  became  to  Mary.  He  appeared  to  anticipate  her  every 
wish;  seemed  to  exist  only  for  her  and  in  her  society. 
Tale-bearers  wagged  their  heads  and  told  of  fond  appel- 
lations and  endearing  phrases  which  they  had  over- 


Living  or  Dead,  I  will  Return.  219 

heard  addressed  to  the  maid  by  this  presumptious 
Roman. 

Joseph  continued  to  be  the  same  impertrubable  non- 
communicative  person  he  had  been  ever  since  this  con- 
dition of  affairs  commenced.  He  was  constantly  pro- 
curing comfort  and  pleasure  for  both  Mary  and  Pan- 
thera.  To  all  appearances  he  was  genuinely  interested 
in  their  enjoyments,  though  he  was  frequently  seen  to 
contemplate  the  two  as  if  lost  in  bitter  reverie. 

Dispite  the  freedom  with  which  the  soldier  greeted 
those  who  were  thrown  in  contact  with  him;  for  all 
his  generosity,  in  the  treatment  of  everyone,  there  was 
a  reserve  and  austerity  about  him  that  could  not  be 
penetrated.  Something  in  his  grand  manner  forbade 
questioning. 

All  too  swiftly  passed  the  leave  of  absence  given  by 
Herod.  The  day  and  hour,  when  Panthera  must  return 
to  Jerusalem,  was  come.  Within  the  room,  that  had 
grown  to  be  a  shrine,  stood  the  soldier,  prepared  for  his 
return  to  the  service  of  the  king.  Before  him,  with 
bowed  head  and  pale  face,  Mary  struggled,  in  vain,  to 
curb  her  grief. 

"How  shall  I  live  without  thee?"  she  sobbed.  "Thou 
art  my  all.  I  shall  be  alone." 

Panthera  brought  every  effort  in  his  power  to  subdue 
his  emotions,  that  he  might  comfort  the  woman. 

"Life  of  my  life!"  he  whispered,  drawing  her  into  a 
fond  embrace.  "Thou  knowest  that  I  will  return  so 
soon  as  I  can  sever  my  connection  with  the  army.  I  will 
be  alone,  also.  Thou  wilt  not  doubt  me?"  He  held 
her  from  him  that  he  might  search  the  face  of  his  love. 

"Never — no  never,  could  I  doubt  thee,  my  lord,  my 
husband ;  but  I  cannot  dispel  the  fear  that  torments  my 


22O  Joachim's  Daughter. 

soul.  If  ought  befall  thee  where  shall  I  ever  find  rest? 
Where  shall  I  go  ?  Where  shall  I  dwell  ?" 

"Let  not  thine  heart  be  troubled.  I  will  hasten  to 
thee.  Our  lives  shall  be  one,  only  one,  all  our  days." 
Again  he  pressed  the  beautiful  form  close  to  his  breast, 
lopking  longingly  into  the  white  face  uplifted  to  his 
own. 

"My  prayers  shall  follow  thee,"  she  said  bravely. 
"I  will  try  to  banish  my  fears.  I  know  that  thou  lovest 
me,  that  thou  wilt  return." 

"I  do  love  thee,"  he  answered.  "I  will  love  thee  even 
unto  death.  And  after  that,"  he  added  passionately. 
"I  swear  to  thee,  I  will  return,  even  should  death  itself 
overtake  me,  yet  shalt  thou  see  me  again.  I  will  return." 

Mary  trembled,  beholding  the  earnestness  of  her 
lover. 

"Joseph,  good  friend,  of  ours,  will  be  often  at  Jeru- 
salem. Thou  wilt  send  messages  by  him  ?"  she  entreated. 

"Indeed  yes,  fond  messages,"  he  replied.  "The  time 
will  fly,  mine  own.  Remember,  the  sister  of  the  king, 
is  my  friend.  She  will  assist  in  obtaining  my  release 
from  the  service.  Then  shall  I  be  with  thee,  never  to  be 
parted  more." 

Again  he  kissed  the  fair  face,  tenderly  reassuring  the 
confiding  Mary  of  the  strength  of  his  love  for  her. 

A  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  them.  The  discrete 
Joseph  entered.  A  short  time  afterward  the  soldier  rode 
out  of  the  village,  traveling  south,  and  disappeared  over 
the  hills  towards  Jerusalem.  Mary  watched  his  reced- 
ing form,  dashing  away  the  tears  that  blinded  her,  that 
she  might  have  another  glimpse  of  the  man  she  loved. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A  CONSPIRACY. 

The  home  of  Simon  Gatzor,  at  Hebron,  was  closed. 
Since  the  day  of  the  hearing  at  Jerusalem  he  had 
remained  in  the  city,  and  had  taken  up  quarters  in  one 
of  the  most  sumptuous  residences  on  mount  Bezetha, 
on  the  inside  of  the  new  wall. 

Alta  was  installed  as  mistress  of  the  home,  but  Simon 
Gatzor  seldom  appeared,  either  in  the  living  rooms  of 
the  house,  or  on  the  streets  of  the  city. 

The  young  woman  launched  into  an  extravagant 
mode  of  living  that  astonished  and  dumbfounded  her 
father.  Her  imperious  will  seemed  to  know  no  law 
beyond  her  own  desire  and  the  parent  ceased  to  expos- 
tulate, gradually  allowing  himself  to  sink  to  insig- 
nificance in  the  economy  of  the  household. 

Solan  Hai  was  in  some  way  connected  with  this 
change  of  residence  and  with  the  handsome  young 
Jewess.  He  was  her  ardent  admirer,  a  slave  to  her 
every  wish  and  caprice,  and  a  constant  attendant  upon 
her.  His  infatuation  carried  him  to  extremes.  He 
obeyed  her  slightest  wish,  as  though  it  amounted  to  a 
command  he  was  bound  to  obey.  Her  rule  over  the 
wretch  was  exacting  in  every  particular,  no  relaxation 
or  cessation.  Her  demands  knew  no  limit;  no  expen- 
diture seemed  lavish  enough  to  satisfy  her  whims. 

Alta  Gatzor' s  new  position  might  have  been  her 
birthright,  so  readily  did  she  accept  her  surroundings, 

221 


222  Joachim's  Daughter. 

so  accustomed  did  she  seem  to  her  privileges  and 
immunities.  The  wealth  of  the  wizard  was  at  her  dis- 
posal, and  she  used  it  with  a  prodigal  hand.  Servants, 
equipages,  costly  apparel,  diamonds  and  rich  jewels 
formed  the  least  of  her  comforts.  The  fame  of  her 
beauty  spread  throughout  the  city  and  her  name  was  in 
the  mouth  of  the  rabble.  Her  grandeur  and  opulence 
were  the  subject  of  universal  comment. 

This  daring,  dashing  creature  was  equal  to  every 
emergency.  A  new  existence  had  opened  before  her 
and  she  seemed  to  know  the  way  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

It  was  late  at  night.  One  of  Alta's  splendid  ban- 
quets had  been  in  progress  since  the  noon  hour.  The 
remnants  of  the  bacchanalian  feast,  betokened  the  ribald 
nature  of  the  entertainment. 

Her  guests  had  departed,  with  the  exception  of  Solan 
Hai,  who  lingered — awaiting  the  commands  of  this 
woman  who  governed  him,  as  well  as  all  others  who 
came  within  the  radius  of  her  authority. 

The  queenly  beauty  was  seated  in  an  alcove,  adjoin- 
ing the  hall.  A  magnificent  robe  of  velvet  and  ermine 
enveloped  her  voluptuous  form  and  trailed  across  the 
costly  rug  at  her  feet.  Before  her  stood  the  wizard, 
Solan  Hai,  in  an  attitude  that  savored  somewhat  of 
dejection,  evidently  he  was  not  in  the  favor  of  Alta  at 
this  time. 

"I  must  retire,"  she  said  wrearily,  without  looking  at 
her  companion. 

"Rest  may  be  necessary  to  thee,  my  queen.  It  must 
be  that  thou  art  fatigued.  Yet,  methinks,  nothing 
could  add  to  the  luster  of  thine  eyes,"  replied  the 
wizard. 

"A  compliment  from  thee,  thou  arch  fiend,  is  some- 
thing to  dream  upon,"  she  sneered.  "Solan  Hai !"  as 


A  Conspiracy.  223 

with  sudden  inspiration,  "thou  must  introduce  me  to 
the  king !" 

Solan  Hai  shook  his  ugly  head. 

"Since  the  death  of  his  wife,  Mariamne,  it  is  hard 
to  approach  the  king.  His  majesty  hath  no  heart  for 
womankind." 

"Think' st  thou  to  make  me  believe  that?  Did  he 
murder  her  to  show  his  love?"  cried  Alta. 

"Hush!"  exclaimed  Hai,  horrified  at  such  audacity. 

"Dost  thou  suppose  I  fear  such  an  old,  decrepit,  anti- 
quated mummy  as  Herod !"  said  Alta  coarsely.  "Tell 
him  it  is  my  will — he  shall  come  here." 

For  the  first  time  in  their  acquaintance  Solan  Hai 
hesitated.  Alta  understood. 

"Promise  me  this,  as  my  good  night,"  she  whispered. 

"At  the  first  opportunity  I  will  endeavor  to  satisfy 
thy  wishes,"  faltered  Solan  Hai.  "By  the  way  there 
is  another,  in  whose  welfare  thou  hast  expressed  some 
interest." 

"Who  may  that  be,  pray?"  she  asked,  surprised. 

"Caius  Panthera  hath  returned  to  Jerusalem,"  he 
announced  quietly,  watching  the  changing  color  and 
expression  of  the  woman  as  she  heard  mention  of  the 
name. 

"In  Jerusalem?"  she  murmured,  leaning  forward,  a 
soft  light  in  her  eyes. 

"He  hath  been  here  for  the  space  of  a  week  or  more," 
still  regarding  her  closely. 

"May  I  see  him?"  she  breathed,  coming  closer  to 
the  wizard. 

"When  wishing  other  favors,  thou  dost  command. 
For  this  man  thou  dost  condescend  to  pray,"  he  said, 
insinuatingly. 

Alta  sprang  to  her  feet. 


224  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"What  if  I  do?"  she  cried  furiously,  going  toward 
the  wizard.  "My  compact  with  thee  was  his  safety." 
The  words  were  fairly  hissed  into  the  ear  of  the  man 
and  her  eyes  blazed. 

"Herod  hath  pardoned  and  restored  him  to  the  army. 
My  part  hath  been  carried  out.  Hast  thou  any  cause  for 
complaint?"  asked  the  wizard  coolly — unaffected  by 
the  storm  of  anger. 

"I  am  not  complaining,  and  thou  would'st  not  have 
dared  to  leave  thy  promise  unperformed.  I  also  have 
carried  out  my  agreement."  Alta  looked  down  at  the 
man  before  her  defiantly. 

"Dost  thou  dare  to  threaten?"  he  demanded.  "Thy 
stipulation  was  that  no  harm  should  come  to  him. 
I  will  continue  the  compact.  But — "  he  paused  looking 
full  into  her  face.  "Thou  must  not  play  me  false. 
I  know  thy  love  for  this  fellow,  and  thou  know'st  that 
he  is  already  wedded ;  that  he  is  the  husband  of  Mary 
of  Nazareth,  the  daughter  of  Joachim." 

The  woman  clasped  her  head  between  her  hands  and 
moaned. 

"Thou  must  dismiss  this  infatuation,"  exclaimed  the 
wizard,  vehemently.  "See — I  will  be  to  thee  what  he 
could  never  have  been — thy  slave !"  The  huge  creature 
fell  on  his  knees  before  the  woman,  grovelling  on  the 
mat  at  her  feet. 

She  lifted  the  folds  of  her  robe,  drew  them  away 
from  his  touch  as  though  they  would  be  contaminated. 
She  turned,  making  no  attempt  to  conceal  her  disgust, 
and  threw  herself  again  upon  the  divan.  From  here 
she  looked  at  the  cringing  Hai,  contempt  curling  her 
lips,  and  fury  glinting  from  her  dark  eyes. 

"Arise,"  she  commanded.  "Let  this  scene  end. 
I  have  had  enough  of  it.  I  wish  to  retire." 


A  Conspiracy.  225 

She  struck  a  gong  that  swung  near.  Solan  Hai 
quickly  regained  his  feet,  as  a  number  of  maids 
appeared. 

"Good  night,  my  lord,"  she  said,  in  the  sweetest 
tone  at  her  command,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to 
disturb  the  even  tenor  of  her  mind.  At  the  same  time 
she  held  out  the  tips  of  her  dainty  ringers  that  Solan 
Hai  might  touch  them  with  his  lips.  She  shuddered  at 
the  contact. 

"Thou  shalt  call  to-morrow,"  she  said  graciously, 
"and  behold  the  return  of  luster  to  the  eyes  thou  dost 
admire,"  she  murmured  aside,  as  she  passed  out  with 
her  attendants,  "Good  night,  slave." 

Solan  Hai  ground  his  teeth  in  rage  as  he  departed 
from  the  house.  His  soul  was  in  torment ;  he  loved  Alta 
Gatzor.  A  wild  masterful  passion  possessed  him,  its 
madness  urged  the  fever  of  desperation  through  his 
veins. 

He  walked  into  the  valley  separating  the  mountains 
of  Jerusalem,  and  betook  himself  to  the  home  of  Costa. 
Stamping  up  the  steps  he  struck  the  door  a  furious  blow 
with  a  staff  he  carried. 

The  timbers  vibrated  from  the  shock;  the  sound 
echoed  through  the  scantily  furnished  building.  Solan 
Hai  waited  a  moment,  then  he  pulled  at  the  latch;  it 
yielded  to  his  touch  and  he  moved  forward  into  the 
darkness  of  the  interior. 

"Costa,  my  good  Costa !"  he  shouted,  "Costa,  awake, 
I  say !  Thou  sluggard,  thy  master  calls." 

He  waited  in  the  darkness,  and  listened  to  the  sound 
of  some  one  moving  about.  Presently  a  light  appeared 
from  the  back  of  the  house.  It  was  in  the  hand  of 
"good  Costa,"  who  came  forward  hastily. 

"What  would'st  thou,  master?"  he  exclaimed,  on 


226  Joachim's  Daughter. 

seeing  who  had  disturbed  him.  "Thou  art  out  late  of 
the  night." 

"Thou  hast  truly  spoken,"  answered  Hai.  "I  come 
for  thine  assistance.  Where  can  we  go  that  we  may  be 
undisturbed  ?" 

Costa  turned  to  a  room  at  hand,  held  the  light  above 
his  head,  that  its  rays  might  show  the  way,  and  waited 
for  Solan  Hai  to  move  past  him  into  the  apartment.  It 
was  a  bare  place  with  no  opening  save  the  door  by 
which  they  entered  and  a  hole  in  the  wall  which  served 
the  purpose  of  a  window. 

The  wizard  seated  himself  on  a  rickety  chair.  Costa 
drew  a  bench  before  his  master,  settled  his  half-clad 
body  on  the  hard  seat,  placed  the  light  beside  him  and 
gazed  into  the  face  of  his  companion  in  crime. 

The  two  men  remained  in  this  position  for  a  short 
time  before  Solan  Hai  came  to  the  business  that  brought 
him  to  Costa.  The  latter  watched  him  narrowly  and 
saw  that  he  was  troubled. 

"The  king  hath  strange  notions  of  late,"  said  the 
wizard,  at  last.  "I  can  scarcely  comprehend  his 
humors." 

"Quite  likely,"  was  the  non-committal  reply  of  Costa. 
"Kings  are  privileged  in  such  matters.  Would  that 
we  all  were  kings." 

"That  it  not  the  thing  most  to  be  desired,"  said 
Solan.  "I  have  been  the  recipient  of  many  favors  at 
the  hand  of  the  king.  What  concerns  me  most  is  the 
manner  of  gratifying  his  demands." 

"One  good  turn  deserves  another,"  remarked  Costa. 
"What  doth  he  require  of  thee?" 

"He  believeth  that  thy  master  is  possessed  of  a 
familiar  spirit,"  grumbled  Solan.  "That  I  can  summon 
the  dead,  and  such  like  stuff." 


A  Conspiracy.  227 

"Well — "  observed  the  cautious  Costa. 

"A  strange  fantasm  hath  seized  his  mind,"  continued 
Solan.  "Death  is  staring  him  in  the  face — he  knows 
that  it  is  inevitably  near.  Mariamne,  whom  he  dis- 
patched, is  always  before  his  clouded  vision.  He  insists 
that,  being  a  wizard,  a  necromancer,  I  must  have  the 
ability  and  power  not  only  to  converse  with  the  dead, 
but  to  raise  the  departed  so  that  he,  too,  may  see  and 
commune  with  them." 

"Well,"  said  the  sagacious  Costa.  "Surely  thou 
can'st  perform  a  small  matter,  such  as  that." 

"Dost  thou  mock  me?"  Solan  glared  into  the  face  of 
Costa  with  angrily  knitted  brows.  "Bah!"  he  con- 
tinued. "Thou  know'st  better.  Let  there  be  no  jesting 
between  us." 

"Whence  cometh  all  thy  power  and  knowledge,  if 
thou  hast  not  a  familiar  spirit,  and  can'st  not  commune 
with  the  unseen  ?"  asked  Costa. 

"All  fraud,  trickery,  deceit — dammed  deceit.  Fraud, 
beginning,  end  and  middle;  nothing  but  fraud!" 

The  wizard  brought  his  fist  down  on  his  knee,  so 
violently  that  the  light  wavered  and  all  but  flickered 
out. 

"I  am  informed,"  said  Costa  carefully,  "that  the 
average  man,  not  excepting  kings,  is  fond  of  being 
deceived,  that  he  doth  not  object  to  lies  and  that  he 
loveth  deeds  of  darkness.  It  may  be  that  thy  deceiving 
is  to  the  king's  taste.  Mayhap,  therein  lieth  the  reason 
for  his  liking  of  his  friend,  the  wizard." 

Solan  Hai  watched  Costa  with  discriminating  atten- 
tion during  the  delivery  of  this  suggestive  speech.  He 
was  not  altogether  pleased  with  the  penetration  dis- 
played by  his  rascally  associate. 

"I  did  not  come  here  to  reason  along  these  lines, 


228  Joachim's  Daughter. 

neither  do  I  care  to  do  so,"  he  said  finally.  "I  must 
hold  his  favor  and  he  insists  that  I  exert  my  power  over 
the  dead,  and  raise  Mariamne,  the  wife  he — " 

"Killed,"  concluded  Costa  boldly,  as  Solan  paused. 

Again  the  wizard  scowled,  but  he  did  not  comment 
on  the  daring  of  his  confederate. 

"The  madman  hath  intimated,  pretty  forcibly,  that 
I  must  obey  his  commands  in  this  respect,  or  I  may 
find  a  residence  somewhere  within  the  walls  ot 
Antonia,"  admitted  the  wizard,  his  anxiety  exhibiting 
itself  in  more  scowls. 

Costa  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  seemed  lost  in 
thought  for  some  time. 

"Thou  hast  come  to  thy  servant  for  counsel  and 
advise  ?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Thou  hast  said,"  replied  Solan,  studying  the  cun- 
ning face  before  him. 

"Thy  servant  can  assist  thee  in  the  matter, ' 
announced  Costa.  "Trust  me  I  will  deliver  thee  from 
all  thy  fears." 

"If  thou  can'st  perform  that  service,  thy  master  will 
not  soon  forget,"  and  the  speaker  leaned  forward  in 
agitation,  hoping  that  Costa  spoke  truly. 

"Can'st  thou  answer  for  the  assistance  of  Alta,  the 
daughter  of  Gatzor  of  Hebron?"  inquired  Costa. 

"I  presume  so,"  answered  the  wizard.  "What  of 
her?" 

"She  is  the  express  image,  both  in  face  and  figure,  of 
the  dead  queen  Mariamne." 

"And  if  that  be  true,  what  of  it?"  said  Solan. 

"Did'st  thou  not  say  that  Herod  must  needs  see  his 
dead  queen?"  asked  Costa.  "Answer  for  Alta.  The 
rest  is  easy.  She  must  personate  Mariamne." 

Solan  Hai  comprehended  the  project. 


A  Conspiracy.  229 

"How  dost  thou  know  that  Alta  resembles  the  dead 
Mariamne?"  he  inquired  doubtfully. 

"During  the  lifetime  of  the  queen,  I  served  for  years 
in  her  house,"  exclaimed  Costa  impatiently.  "I  was 
struck  with  her  resemblance  to  the  queen  the  first  time 
I  met  Alta  Gatzor.  I  tell  thee,  the  likeness  is  complete." 

The  wizard  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"By  the  gods,  thou  hast  solved  the  problem/'  he  cried 
in  a  voice  of  intense  satisfaction  and  relief.  "The  king 
shall  see  his  Mariamne." 

"Will  the  daughter  of  Gatzor  consent  to  the  imposi- 
tion?" asked  Costa,  considering. 

"No  doubt  of  it.  She  dare  not  refuse,"  answered  the 
wizard. 

"Let  her  but  be  willing,  the  rest  will  take  care  of 
itself,"  remarked  Costa. 

"This  very  night  she  requested  a  meeting  with  the 
king,"  said  Hai,  unwisely  telling  secrets  in  his  elation 
at  the  scheme.  "She  will  enter  into  the  deception  with 
a  will.  There  is  nothing  she  would  not  dare  undertake. 
Besides" — viciously — "I  hold  the  means  of  compelling 
her."  The  wretch  rubbed  his  hands  together  gleefully, 
at  the  thought  of  the  new  triumph  he  would  win.  He 
blinked  his  eyes,  his  face  widened,  and  a  sardonic  grin 
of  supreme  confidence  in  the  result  of  the  plan  upon  the 
credulity  of  Herod  swept  across  his  visage. 

"Think  of  the  power  it  would  give  us  over  the  mind 
of  the  king,"  ventured  the  man,  Costa,  after  a  silence, 
during  which  Solan  Hai  paced  the  little  room,  too  much 
pleased  to  speak.  He  wheeled  about,  as  Costa  spoke, 
and  looked  sternly  into  the  face  of  the  impudent  rascal. 

"Us,"  he  drawled  slowly  and  fiercely,  "who  in 
Satan's  name  is — us?"  his  eyes  flashed  with  displeasure. 


230  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Thou  art  presumptuous.  Remember,  Solan  Hai  hath 
no  rival,  shares  with  none,  acknowledges  no  partner." 

Costa  made  haste  to  crave  pardon  for  his  unfortu- 
nate speech. 

"'Tis  enough,"  said  Solan  Hai  to  the  suppliant.  "Thy 
reward  shall  correspond  in  magnitude  with  thy  service. 
The  value  of  thy  suggestion  is  not  lost  upon  thy 
master." 

The  peculiar  emphasis  on  the  last  word  did  not  fail 
to  impress  the  slave.  Neither  did  it  subdue  the  storm 
of  mortification  that  raged  beneath  the  servile  exterior 
of  the  man.  He  closed  the  door  behind  the  wizard  and 
stood  still,  listening  to  the  sound  of  retreating  footsteps 
as  they  died  away  in  the  distance. 

"Step  aside,  slave,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "No 
interference.  Thy  suggestion  shall  be  rewarded  as  thy 
master  sees  fit.  Wait,  Solan  Hai,  thou  may'st  be  nearer 
Antonia  than  thou  would'st  care  to  know."  The  gleam 
of  hatred  in  Costa's  eyes  boded  no  good  to  the  wizard. 
"The  proverb  'every  dog  shall  have  his  day'  is  none  the 
less  true  because  of  its  age,"  he  thought,  and  shambled 
off  to  bed,  where  he  dreamed  of  revenge. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  SEANCE — NECROMANCY. 

"Thou  hast  magnificent  apartments,"  was  the  com- 
ment of  king  Herod,  as  he  moved  along,  supported  by 
Solan  Hai  and  another,  to  a  seat  prepared  for  his 
majesty  in  the  supper  hall  of  Alta,  the  daughter  of 
Simon  Gatzor. 

The  place  bore  no  semblance  to  its  customary  appear- 
ance. The  tables  had  been  removed  and  the  walls  cov- 
ered with  new  hangings,  priceless  rugs  were  strewn 
about  the  floor,  and  furniture  that  would  have  adorned 
the  palace  of  any  king  was  displayed. 

Across  one  end  of  the  room  hung  a  heavy  curtain  of 
silken  texture.  This  was  the  occasion  for  a  trial  of 
the  wizard's  reputed  power  and  ability  to  raise  the 
dead. 

"Everything  thou  dost  behold  was  procured  for  thy 
pleasure,  that  thy  poor  servant  might  aspire  to  entertain 
his  benefactor,"  said  Solan  Hai,  in  reply  to  the  remark 
of  the  king. 

Herod's  eyes  wandered  over  the  sumptuous  arrange- 
ments for  his  reception. 

"Thou  art  reported  to  be  as  rich  as  any  at  Jerusa- 
lem," he  said,  reflectively,  looking  keenly  into  the  eyes 
of  the  wizard.  "Is  it  true?" 

The  wizard  was  struck  with  misgiving.  If  he  should 
answer  in  the  affirmative,  the  king  might  wish  to  become 
his  debtor.  He  knew  that  loans  were  easily  effected  on 

231 


232  Joachim's  Daughter. 

the  credit  and  security  of  Herod,  so  he  refrained  from 
his  usual  bombast  and  answered  humbly  enough. 

"Thy  servant  is  very  much  overrated,  but  what  he 
hath  is  always  at  the  disposal  of  his  friend." 

"I  will  remember  thy  loyalty,"  answered  the  king, 
"I  stand  in  no  doubt  of  thy  sincerity." 

The  hour  was  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  fit 
time  for  the  uncanny  doings.  The  pretentious  wizard 
had  insisted  that  the  king  comply  with  certain  condi- 
tions and  restrictions,  that  would  insure  immunity 
from  detection  in  this  contemplated  cheat,  for  it  would, 
of  course,  be  surrounded  with  all  the  senseless  display 
attendant  upon  these  deceptive  manifestations. 

With  skillful  care  and  patience  the  king  had  been 
tutored  into  complete  submission  to  the  directions  of 
the  wizard  and  his  assistants.  His  receptive  mind  had 
been  completely  impressed  with  the  belief,  that,  in  order 
•to  appreciate  the  supernatural  phenomena  which  he 
might  witness,  perfect  harmony  should  exist  between 
himself  and  the  medium  through  whom  these  mani- 
festations were  to  become  real.  He  understood  that 
without  this  absolute  passiveness  on  his  part,  no  satis- 
factory results  could  be  hoped  for.  Thus,  actuated  by 
desperate  longing  for  the  beautiful  princess,  whom  he 
had  never  ceased  to  mourn,  he  surrendered  himself  to 
the  keeping  and  power  of  Solan  Hai,  and  entered  upon 
the  mysteries  of  this  midnight  seance. 

After  the  king  was  reclining  on  the  couch  prepared 
for  him,  all  the  lights  in  the  room  were  extinguished, 
with  the  exception  of  two  small  ones  that  burned  dimly 
immediately  back  of  where  the  monarch  rested.  Herod 
looked  up  at  the  fantastic  shadows,  flickering  on  the 
high  arched  ceiling,  and  the  chill  of  awe  went  over  him. 
Again  did  Solan  Hai  admonish  him  to  "  'trust  in  the 


The  Seance — Necromancy.  233 

power  of  his  obedient  servant'  no  matter  what  might 
develop,  for  this  was  to  be  a  meeting  between  the  living 
and  the  dead." 

"Thou  shalt  see,  oh,  king,  a  number  of  persons  from 
the  other  shore.  It  would  be  a  favor  to  thy  servant  if 
thou  would'st  describe  thy  beloved  queen."  The  wizard 
bowed  low  before  his  master,  who,  for  the  first  time 
regarded  him  with  undisguised  suspicion. 

"Beware!  Solan  Hai,"  he  thundered.  "There  must 
be  no  chicanery.  Thou  shalt  not  dare  to  inquire  as  to 
any  thing  which  might  give  thee  advantage  in  this 
matter." 

The  king  raised  himself  so  as  to  look  full  into  the 
face  of  his  companion.  The  wizard  met  the  gaze  with- 
out so  much  as  flinching. 

"Such  requirement  hath  not  been  made  of  any  sooth- 
sayer since  the  days  of  the  prophet  Daniel.  Be  patient 
with  thy  servant,  oh,  king!"  the  wizard  said,  bowing 
again  to  conceal  the  grin  that  distorted  his  features.  The 
king  had  fallen  into  the  trap. 

"There  must  be  no  jugglery,"  said  the  monarch, 
sternly. 

"It  grieves  thy  servant  to  the  soul,  that  the  breath  of 
suspicion  should  come  from  his  gracious  master," 
murmured  Hai.  "Art  thou  ready,  or  would'st  thou 
that  we  disturb  not  the  unseen  ?" 

"Proceed!"  exclaimed  the  king,  energetically.  "It 
is  my  wish,  I  command  thee,  redeem  thy  promises. 
Prove  thy  boasted  power." 

The  wizard  advanced  to  the  silken  curtain.  It  swelled 
like  a  filling  sail,  and  parted  in  the  center.  The  space 
beyond  lay  in  impenetrable  darkness,  intensified  by  the 
dim  light  of  the  wavering  flame  near  the  king. 


234  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Solan  Hai  waved  his  arms  above  his  head,  as  if  to 
implore  some  unseen  power. 

A  moving  sound,  as  of  winds  whistling  through  the 
place,  answered  the  motions  of  the  enchanter,  the  silver 
tinkling  of  a  bell  followed,  and  died  away. 

Herod  sat  upright,  eager  expectancy  and  hope  made 
him  alive  to  the  slightest  sound.  A  noise,  as  of  untuned 
stringed  instruments,  greeted  the  hearing.  It  grew  in 
volume,  gathering  discord  after  discord  until  it  reached 
a  pitch  unbearable  to  the  nerves  of  Herod  and  impos- 
sible to  describe. 

This  continued  until  the  king  cried  out  in  alarm.  The 
wily  conspirator  immediately  ran  back  to  his  dupe  and 
fell  prostrate  before  him,  begging  him  to  be  patient  and 
fear  not;  imploring  him  to  preserve  the  conditions; 
assuring  him  that  these  signs  were  propitious ;  that  the 
heavenly  visitors  would  surely  condescend  to  satisfy 
his  majesty  in  every  particular.  Solan  Hai  remained 
before  the  king  while  the  distracting  roar  lessened, 
falling  to  sweet  strains  of  harmony  that  gradually 
filled  the  air. 

Herod  lay  back  again  among  the  soft  cushions  and 
furs,  the  dreamy  music  had  soothed  his  fears.  As  one 
enraptured  he  listened — the  melodious  waves  vibrated 
through  the  room. 

Trumpet  blasts  roused  the  monarch,  clear  liquid 
notes,  thrilling,  soul  stirring.  Herod  succumbed  to  the 
spell  of  his  own  superstition.  He  no  longer  questioned 
the  power  of  Solan  Hai. 

A  rumbling,  as  of  distant  thunder,  replaced  the 
music.  Clouds  of  smoke  rolled  from  the  dark  recess 
and  fitful  jets  of  flame  illumined  the  vapor.  The  odor 
of  fragrant  incense  impregnated  the  atmosphere.  The 


The  Seance — Necromancy.  235 

king  abandoned  himself  to  the  intoxicating  effects  as 
one  who,  after  weary  days,  finds  rest. 

Flames  danced  across  the  dark  space.  At  first  they 
gave  little  light,  but  they  brightened,  and  the  king  sat 
up  again,  with  bated  breath  and  staring  eyes,  for, 
beyond  the  smoke  and  flames  a  form  became  discerni- 
ble. Another  and  another  appeared  before  his  fixed 
gaze,  floating  through  the  misty  vapor.  Some  of  the 
forms  were  beautiful  to  behold;  others  grotesque  and 
hideous  beyond  description. 

It  was  whispered  to  the  king  that  no  alteration  of 
the  conditions  must  occur.  That  no  sound  from  inquis- 
itive human  kind  must  mar  the  materialization,  else 
the  queen  would  be  hindered  in  her  attempt  to  manifest 
herself  to  the  king. 

Herod  remained  motionless;  fear  and  expectation 
held  him  speechless.  Solan  Hai  was  now  convinced 
that  there  could  be  no  danger  in  allowing  the  well 
arranged  spectacle  to  proceed. 

"She  comes !  she  comes !"  shouted  the  wizard.  "Let 
every  head,  except  the  king's,  be  bowed."  He  threw 
himself  on  the  floor  as  he  finished  speaking,  and  the 
attendants  bent  their  heads  in  obedience.  Herod  strained 
his  eyes  in  an  agony  of  yearning,  as  he  watched  the 
space  beyond  the  curtain.  The  forms  disappeared,  the 
murky  vapor  grew  white,  back  of  this,  the  light  turned 
rose  color.  All  at  once,  as  a  vision,  appeared  the  beau- 
tiful form  of  a  stately  woman.  The  light  increased, 
showing  full  upon  her  handsome  features.  Transpar- 
ent garments  floated  about  her,  and  to  the  enthralled 
senses  of  Herod  an  ethereal  creature  moved. 

Again  the  enchanting  music  was  wafted  to  the  ears 
of  the  king;  the  light  beyond  the  curtain  changed  to 
intense  whiteness,  and  Solan  Hai  arose  from  the  floor. 


236  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Herod,  'king  of  the  Jews!'  "  he  cried.  "Behold  thy 
queen !" 

Overwhelming  joy  transfigured  the  face  of  the  king. 
It  was  she,  the  wife  he  had  loved,  whom  he  had  caused 
to  be  murdered  through  his  jealousy. 

Once  more  he  beheld  the  beautiful  arms  of  his  lost 
mistress  extended  toward  him.  The  spell,  that  had  held 
him,  was  powerless  now.  He  sprang  from  the  couch, 
and  rushed  toward  her. 

"Mariamne !  Mariamne !"  he  cried.  "My  love !  my 
wife." 

Instantly  a  discordant  noise  crashed  through  the 
room.  Before  the  king  had  taken  three  steps  forward, 
everything  was  enveloped  in  impenetrable  darkness. 
The  remaining  lamps  were  dashed  to  the  floor.  All 
was  confusion  and  uproar.  Pandemonium  reigned 
in  the  place. 

The  king  sank  to  the  floor,  wringing  his  hands,  and 
moaning  aloud  in  grief.  When  the  servants  brought 
lights  they  found  the  wizard  face  downward  among  the 
rugs,  where  he  lay  for  some  time  as  one  dead. 


"Costa!    Costa!" 

"Here  am  I,  mistress." 

The  man,  Costa,  answered  the  summons  of  Alta 
Gatzor,  the  reckless,  successful  actress  in  the  recent 
imposition.  He  entered  the  room  where  she  had 
resumed  her  customary  attire.  The  discarded  clothing 
of  gauzy  texture  still  littered  the  floor. 

The  excitement,  of  her  achievement,  glittered  in  the 
eyes  of  the  woman,  her  face  was  flushed  and  her  bosom 
heaved,  she  still  labored  under  the  nervous  strain. 


The  Seance — Necromancy.  237 

"Are  they  gone?"  she  questioned  eagerly. 

"Every  mother's  son  of  them,"  was  the  reply,  "the 
wizard  hath  accompanied  the  king.  He  is  making  the 
most  of  his  success." 

"Is  the  king  completely  deceived?"  asked  Alta. 

"Not  the  remotest  doubt  of  it.  ,  Solan  Hai  is  in  high 
glee,"  answered  Costa. 

Alta's  eyes  flashed. 

"By  all  the  powers,"  she  cried,  excitedly  and  wildly, 
"his  triumph  shall  be  of  short  duration !  The  wizard  is 
in  my  power.  As  he  hath  done  to  others,  so  shall  it 
be  doled  out  to  him." 

Costa  heard  the  venomous  threat  with  astonishment, 
and  he  realized,  with  lively  apprehension,  that  for  some 
reason,  Alta  hated  the  wizard. 

"Have  a  care,  my  mistress,"  interposed  the  cautious 
retainer.  "The  king  will  not  forgive,  if  he  discover 
that  he  hath  been  fooled." 

"He  will  forgive  all  except  the  contemptible  author 
of  the  deception,"  declared  the  woman.  "I  will  not 
hesitate.  Thou  wilt  help  me.  I  must  act — act  at  once. 
I  will  undertake  the  management  of  the  undoing  of 
Solan  Hai ;  assume  the  whole  responsibility ;  accept  all 
the  blame.  Trust  thy  mistress  to  smooth  the  troubled 
waters,  in  whose  billows  the  wizard  shall  drown." 

Costa  looked  admiringly  at  the  daring  creature  before 
him. 

"Thou  would'st  rush  into  certain  danger,"  he  said. 
"Perhaps  thou  dost  not  understand  the  extent  of  Solan 
Hai's  power.  Let  not  thine  anger  and  hatred  involve 
thee  in  indiscretions." 

"Thou  hast  spoken  well,  my  Costa,  thou  art  faithful 
and  thy  counsel  is  not  thrown  away.  Yet,  thou  must 
arrange  a  meeting  for  me  with  the  king,  either  at  this 


238  Joachim's  Daughter. 

place  or  in  his  palace.  After  that  I  will  act  independ- 
ently. It  must  be  done  at  once." 

"What  would'st  thou  do?"  asked  the  man,  in  alarm 
at  the  energy  of  Alta. 

"I  will  expose  the  deception  to  the  king.  Crush  the 
wizard,"  said  Alta  in  a,  low  voice  that  thrilled  the  hearer 
with  horror,  so  vindictive  was  the  tone. 

""Pis  a  desperate  undertaking.  Thou  wilt  not  betray 
thy  servant  ?"  said  Costa  uneasily. 

"Not  a  hair  of  thy  head  shall  be  harmed."  Alta 
looked  somewhat  contemptuously  at  the  servant.  "Is 
it  not  a  common  cause?  Dost  thou  not,  also,  despise 
Solan  Hai  ?  Thou  hast  reason.  Trust  me  and  do  not 
fear." 

Costa  still  hesitated. 

"Hast  thou  considered  the  danger  and  the  risk?"  he 
ventured. 

"I  certainly  have,"  exclaimed  Alta,  impatiently. 
""I  am  determined  to  destroy  the  wizard,  or  be,  myself, 
•destroyed.  Hark  thee — tell  me,  Costa,  what  said  he 
to  the  king  before  they  went  away  ?" 

"Thou  know'st  that  Solan  Hai  had  taken  much 
wine,"  began  the  man  apologetically,  "his  tongue  was 
loosed  and  he  boasted  to  the  king  of  his  wonderful 
power;  pretended  that  what  had  been  seen  was  but  a 
small  matter ;  promised  marvelous  results  in  the  future ; 
the  king  could  scarce  brook  delay  in  resuming  the 
mysterious  experiments,  but  Hai  insisted  that  his 
energy  and  strength  were  exhausted  by  the  act  of  the 
•king  in  springing  toward  the  queen."  Costa  bent  in 
comical  homage  as  he  uttered  the  last  word,  but  Alta 
was  in  no  mood  for  trifling. 

"The  wizard  thinks  he  will  recover  his  wasted 
strength  in  about  a  week,"  Costa  said. 


The  Seance — Necromancy.  239 

"Dost  thou  mean  that  the  king  hath  been  promised 
another  visitation  ?"  she  demanded. 

"Thou  hast  said,"  answered  Costa,  "another  visita- 
tion from  the  unseen  world." 

"And  what  more  was  promised  his  majesty?" 

Costa' s  face  reddened. 

"I  may  not  have  heard  all  that  was  promised,"  he 
said,  evasively,  "and  I  would  not  shock  thine  ears,  my 
mistress,  with  what  a  blatant  drunkard  might  utter." 

"By  theGod  of  Israel,  thou  shalt  keep  back  nothing?" 
cried  Alta,  in  a  furious  passion.  "Tell  me  everything!" 
she  commanded,  coming  close  to  Costa,  "every  jot  and 
tittle!" 

"The  passion  of  the  king  is  inflamed  to  madness  at 
the  thought  of  the  possibility  that  he  may  again  fold 
Mariamne  to  his  breast.  Thou  know'st  that  Solan  Hai 
would  skillfully  use  this  longing  to  his  own  ends,"  said 
Costa.  "The  most  exacting  conditions  have  been  agreed 
to  by  the  king.  Death  is  the  penalty  held  as  the  result 
of  the  slightest  infringement  on  the  rules  laid  down  by 
the  wizard,  to  which  the  king  hath  agreed  to  submit, 
and  to  which,  he  hath  promised  most  implicit  compli- 
ance." 

"Go  on!  There  is  more  of  this,"  screamed  Alta, 
grasping  the  man  by  the  shoulders,  and  glaring  into  his 
frightened  eyes.  "Go  on !  What  hath  Solan  Hai  pro- 
mised the  king?" 

"That  thou,  my  mistress,  shalt  again  appear  before 
the  king ;  that  after  he  hath  beheld  thee,  in  the  light,  and 
is  assured  that  thou  art  truly  Mariamne,"  Costa  lowered 
his  voice.  "The  king  is  promised  thy  company  for  the 
space  of  two  hours  in  total  darkness.  For  the  accom- 
plishment of  this  thing,  the  king  hath  solemnly  agreed 
to  protect  this  great  prophet  in  Israel,  safe  in  all  his  pos- 


240  Joachim's  Daughter. 

sessions,  and  to  add  to  them  many  shekels  of  gold,  as 
an  offering  to  the  spirits  who  delight  in  ministering  to 
the  wants  of  Solan  Hai,  and,  who  will  assist  him  in 
maintaining  the  conditions  that  will  make  this  pos- 
sible." 

"The  dastard!"  exclaimed  Alta.  "He  would  use, 
and  sell,  even  me,  just  as  he  does  every  other  creature 
within  his  power.  We  will  outwit  him — but,  my  good 
Costa,  thou  must  promise  me  one  thing  before  thou 
shalt  leave  my  presence,  that  thou  wilt  keep  good  faith 
with  thy  mistress." 

"With  all  my  heart  and  soul,  I  promise  thee  that/' 
said  Costa  heartily. 

"Wilt  thou  arrange  the  meeting  I  mentioned,  with 
the  king?"  she  questioned. 

"I  will  do  so  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  In  some  way 
thou  shalt  gain  audience  with  him.  I  will  go  about  the 
matter  at  once." 

Costa  no  longer  hesitated,  like  every  one  else  who 
fell  within  the  sphere  of  her  influence,  he  worshiped 
this  radiant  creature. 

"Then  thou  may'st  go,"  she  said  softly ;  holding  out 
her  hand  to  the  man.  He  seized  it  and  falling  upon  his 
knees  covered  the  soft  white  ringers  with  kisses.  Then 
he  arose  and  respectfully  backed  out  from  her  presence. 

Alta  threw  herself  across  the  couch.  Shame  and 
mortification  struggled  within  her  for  mastery.  She 
had  lent  her  beauty  to  further  the  schemes  of  Solan  Hai 
for  the  control  of  the  weak,  superstitious  mind  of  the 
king,  with  one  only  purpose  before  her ;  that  of  further- 
ing her  own  designs,  but  she  had  not  counted  on  insult 
to  her  womanhood.  She  had  believed  that  the  wizard 
held  some  respect  for  her  sex;  and  she  gave  over  the 
hours  of  the  night  to  anticipations  of  revenge. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  KING'S  VISITOR. 

"Let  the  woman  enter.  If  her  message  be  so  import- 
ant, then  I  will  give  her  audience." 

Herod  spoke  to  one  of  his  attendants,  who  was 
prostrate  before  him.  The  slave  arose,  and  departed  to 
convey  the  order  of  the  king.  At  the  same  time,  two 
eunuchs  took  their  places  between  the  couch,  where  the 
monarch  reclined,  and  the  doorway  where  the  expected 
visitor  would  enter. 

The  king  occupied  the  room  in  the  palace  where  he 
passed  his  afternoons  when  desiring  to  be  alone.  The 
couch  was  placed  near  a  large  latticed  window  com- 
manding a  view  of  the  gardens  without ;  and  the  splash 
of  waters  dripping  from  the  fountains  fell  musically 
on  the  ear. 

The  drapery  of  the  couch  was  artistically  embroid- 
ered and  gorgeous  pillows  were  heaped  upon  it.  Ele- 
gantly carved  seats  of  ivory,  and  ebony  tables  stood 
about,  and  the  floor  was  covered  with  skins  entire,  the 
claws  being  gilded.  Vases  of  beautiful  flowers  stood 
everywhere;  and  graceful  ornaments  of  alabaster  were 
scattered  through  the  apartment.  A  peculiar,  indescriba- 
bly fascinating  charm  reigned  over  the  apparently 
careless  arrangement  of  these  various  objects. 

Above  the  king's  couch  was  a  canopy  of  polished 
wood,  wonderfully  inlaid  with  malachiti  and  so  carved 
that  the  impression  of  lace  was  given  the  beholder. 

241 


242  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Tassels  of  gold  and  silver  hung  from  the  points  of 
the  carving.  The  walls  were  draped  with  tapestry  of 
crimson  and  gold,  and  the  ceiling  was  of  burnished 
brass,  beaten  into  non-descript  figures. 

This  day  the  king  was  in  a  gracious  humor.  The 
intrusion  was  not  unwelcome.  It  might  afford  him 
interest,  or  amusement,  he  cared  but  little  which.  At 
the  least  intimation  of  anything  disagreeable,  he  could 
dismiss  both  the  woman  and  her  grievance — should  it 
prove  that  she  had  one. 

Having  thus  rapidly  arranged  the  matter  in  his  mind, 
his  majesty  was  kindly  disposed  toward  giving  ear  to 
the  supplicant,  a  woman  who  had  earnestly  craved  his 
attention,  claiming  that  the  person  and  honor  of  the 
king  was  the  subject  of  which  she  would  speak. 

She  had  been  bold  and  persistent — characteristics 
admired  by  Herod  in  women;  she  did  not,  would  not, 
accept  the  refusal,  given  by  the  chamberlain,  but  had 
demanded  that  a  personal  interview  with  the  king  be 
granted  her.  This  had  a  charm  for  Herod.  It  was  out 
and  beyond  the  ordinary  happenings  of  the  day,  and,  in 
consequence,  commended  the  woman  and  her  mission. 
What  had  most  astonished  him  was  the  report  that  she 
was  disguised,  a  cowl  covering  her  features,  and  that 
she  utterly  refused  to  give  her  name. 

Every  precaution  was  taken  to  protect  the  king  from 
hostile  molestation.  The  eunuchs  were  powerful  Ethio- 
pians, always  in  readiness  for  any  emergency — besides 
a  company  of  body-guards,  commanded  by  a  centurion, 
was  within  easy  call. 

Herod  was  secure.  He  knew  it.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  danger  that  he  would  not  be  the  full  master  of 
the  situation. 

A  moment,  and  the  curtain  was  lifted.    The  usher 


The  King's  Visitor.  243 

stepped  aside,  and  the  veiled  figure  of  a  woman  entered 
the  room.  She  wore  a  long  robe  of  costly  material  but 
dark  in  color  and  of  studied  simplicity.  There  was  no 
betrayal  of  fear  or  hesitancy  in  her  manner,  but  she  did 
not  remove  the  covering  from  her  face.  She  went 
directly,  though  slowly,  to  a  position  before  the  king. 
She  appeared  unconscious  of  herself,  but  nothing  in  her 
exterior  was  unpremeditated,  and  the  noble  form,  in  the 
plain  gown  would  have  been  certain  to  attract  atten- 
tion anywhere. 

She  paused  before  Herod,  bowed  her  head  and  sank 
to  her  knees,  remaining  mute  and  motionless  in  his 
august  presence. 

"Speak!"  exclaimed  Herod,  gazing  at  the  cowled 
figure.  "Speak!  What  so  urgent  as  to  bring  thee 
before  the  king?" 

"I  come  to  seek  thy  pardon,  oh,  king !  To  expose  and 
make  known  to  thee  a  wicked  imposition  which  hath 
been  practiced  upon  thy  majesty,  by  one  who  hath 
gained  thy  confidence  through  cunning  deceit." 

Clear  and  low  the  voice  of  Alta  Gatzor  fell  upon  the 
ear  of  the  king. 

"If  thy  face  be  as  beautiful  as  thy  voice  is  musical, 
thou  art  already  pardoned,"  said  Herod. 

"While  thy  servant  liveth,  the  compliment  shall 
never  be  forgotten,"  murmured  the  voice. 

"Remove  the  cowl,  that  I  may  behold  thy  features," 
commanded  the  king  in  his  blandest  tones. 

"Thou  would'st  not  be  impatient  should' st  thou  be 
disappointed  in  the  comeliness  of  thy  servant?"  ques- 
tioned the  woman. 

"My  word  for  it,"  said  the  king,  reassuringly. 
"Remove  the  covering." 

The  visitor  proceeded  to  do  as  she  was  requested. 


244  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Rising  to  her  feet,  she  loosened  the  cowl  and  allowed  it 
to  fall  to  the  floor.  Undaunted,  motionless  as  a  carved 
statue,  she  stood  with  her  dark,  luminous  eyes  fixed 
steadily  upon  the  king. 

His  careless  glance  became  riveted,  he  stared  as  one 
demented  into  the  gloriously  beautiful  face. 

"Heavens !"  he  gasped  rising  from  the  couch,  "I  have 
seen  that  face  before.  Woman,  I  command  thee,  tell 
me  where?" 

"At  the  rendezvous  of  the  reputed  wizard  of  Jerusa- 
lem, Solan  whose  sirname  is  Hai,"  answered  Alta  in 
her  most  winning  tones. 

The  king  continued  to  gaze  at  the  woman. 
"And  thou,"  he  began,  "thou  art — " 
"I   am   Alta,   the   daughter   of   Simon   Gatzor,   of 
Hebron,"  she  said  composedly. 

"Make  known  thy  mission,"  commanded  the  king, 
scarcely  able  to  control  his  voice. 

"I  am  come  to  expose  the  wicked  imposition,  that 
hath  been  practiced  upon  thee  by  Solan  Hai,"  replied 
Alta  deliberately. 

"By  the  powers  that  guard  us,  thou  shalt  have  oppor- 
tunity!" cried  Herod  energetically.     "Dost  thou  refer 
to  the  meeting  two  nights  ago  ?" 
"I  do,  oh,  king," 

"I  half  suspected  that  I  had  been  deceived,"  said  the 
king,  with  a  groan.     "Alas!     It  may  have  been  thee 
whom  I  saw.    Is  it  true?" 
"It  is  true,"  conceded  Alta. 
"Be  seated,  and  at  rest." 

He  motioned  to  a  seat,  and  one  of  the  eunuchs  placed 
it  instantly  at  the  disposal  of  Alta.  These  attendants 
might  have  been  black  marble  statues,  for  all  the  inter- 
est they  evinced  in  what  was  occurring.  At  a  signal 


The  King's  Visitor.  245 

they  now  retired.  Alta's  object  was  attained,  she  was 
alone  with  the  king. 

She  accepted  the  almost  unknown  situation  with 
equanimity.  To  be  seated,  a  stranger,  in  the  presence 
of  the  austere  ruler  was  a  rare  privilege.  Only  to  fav- 
orites and  distinguished  guests  did  Herod  so  unbend. 
Now  he  feasted  his  eyes,  with  unconcealed  pleasure, 
upon  the  voluptuous  creature  before  him. 

"I  see  it  all,"  he  said  slowly.  "Thou  art  wonder- 
fully like  her — my  lost  love.  Mariamne  thou  art  gone, 
my  soul,  my  life;  doubly  lost  to  me  in  that  I  had 
thought  to  see  thee  again.  This  woman  is  but  thine 
image — a  shadow." 

The  suffering  king  turned  his  face  downward  among 
the  cushions  and  wept,  in  an  agony  of  impotent  grief 
and  despair. 

"Thou  can'st  not  know  how  hard  is  this  disappoint- 
ment to  bear,"  he  said  at  last,  in  a  broken  voice.  "I  for- 
give thee,  Alta  Gatzor,  but,  thou  shalt  keep  back  noth- 
ing. Thou  must  tell  me  all." 

"Most  willingly  will  thy  servant  do  so,"  Alta  replied. 
"It  is  said  that  I  am  somewhat  like  thy  lamented 
queen." 

"Thou  art  the  very  embodiment  of  her,  as  I  knew  her 
first,  the  likeness  is  wonderful.  She  was  truly  a  queen, 
easily  touched  by  the  sorrows  of  others,  ever  ready  to 
hear  the  cry  of  distress — brave  and  considerate." 

The  king  left  his  place  and  strode  about  the  room 
endeavoring  to  control  his  emotions.  He  returned  and 
stood  before  Alta. 

"Thou  may'st  take  her  place — thou  wilt  let  me  drink 
in  thy  beauty,"  said  the  king,  in  a  voice  of  terrible  inten- 
sity. His  face  was  white  and  his  lips  of  ashen  hue. 


Joachim's  Daughter. 

"I  will  dream  her  soul  into  thee,  I  will  adore  thee  as  the 
reflection  of  my  life's  love.  I  will  listen  to  thy  story — 
tell  me  all.  I  am  weary  of  perfidy.  Do  not  attempt  to 
deceive  me.  Let  the  spirit  of  my  love,  for  the  lost  one 
thou  did'st  personate,  possess  thy  soul.  Thou  shalt  be 
given  such  power,  such  triumph,  as  no  woman  in  all 
Israel  dare  aspire  to  reach.  See,  the  king,  who  may 
command,  is  at  thy  feet — relate  thy  story,  leave  nothing 
untold." 

The  vehemence  of  the  king  frightened  even  Alta 
Gatzor,  but  her  splendid  audacity  served  her  well  and 
she  told  all  the  particulars  of  the  cruel  deception.  She 
saw  her  way  to  a  place  that  would  be  the  envy  of  Jeru- 
salem, and  her  most  ambitious  thought  had  been  the 
downfall  of  Solan  Hai.  Every  word  she  uttered 
advanced  her  in  the  favor  of  the  susceptible  king,  her 
winsome  manner  conveying  open  sympathy  to  his  tor- 
tured mind. 

When  she  had  finished,  he  sat  for  a  long  time  in  silent 
contemplation.  The  veins  of  his  face  were  swollen,  the 
heavy  brows  drawn  in  a  malignant  frown,  every  fea- 
ture betokened  the  most  furious  anger  and  hatred. 

"I  have  long  despised  the  presumptions  of  this  Hai/' 
said  the  king  at  length.  "He  hath  been  my  secret 
adviser,  in  whose  judgment  I  trusted,  and  to  whose 
counsel  I  listened — to  his  advancement  and  my  own 
peril — as  I  now  believe.  He  shall  no  longer  have  a 
place  in  my  esteem,  but,  for  a  few  days,  I  would  that 
thou  continue  on  friendly  terms  with  this  wizard,  until 
I  shall  be  able  to  conjure  up  an  adaquate  punishment 
for  his  crimes.  Mayhap  thou,  too,  dost  not  bear  him  any 
too  good  a  will. 

"I  hate  him !"  she  hissed. 


The  King's  Visitor.  247 

"It  is  well,"  said  the  king.  "Thou  may'st  whet  thine 
appetite,  for  methinks  I  shall  afford  thee  ample  oppor- 
tunity for  revenge.  Thou  may'st  depart.  I  would  be 
alone,  but  when  thou  dost  return,  Herod  will  have  that 
to  say  to  thee,  that  will  make  thee  the  proudest  woman 
in  Israel." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   REFINEMENT   OF   TORTURE. 

"Solan  Hai,  the  wizard  of  Jerusalem,  friend  of  the 
king." 

The  announcement  was  made  by  Herod's  chamber- 
Iain.  The  personage  named  entered,  accompanied  by 
the  two  Ethiopians,  who  walked  on  either  side  of  him. 
They  arrived  at  the  farthest  end  of  the  long  room  where 
sat  his  majesty,  Herod,  and  paused.  The  eunuchs 
assumed  reclining  positions  on  each  side  of  where  the 
monarch  looked  down  on  the  visitor. 

The  room  was,  in  many  respects,  similar  to  the  one 
in  which  the  king  had  been  entertained  on  the  occasion 
when  the  supposed  Mariamne  had  appeared.  The  hang- 
ings were  arranged  in  the  same  way,  even  to  the  cur- 
tain, heavy  and  opaque,  drawn  across  the  end  of  the 
room  opposite  the  king.  The  floor  was  bare  and  polished 
so  that  it  reflected  like  a  mirror.  The  draperies  about 
the  seat  of  the  king  were  of  exquisite  texture,  fine  linen, 
threaded  with  gold.  The  latticed  windows  were  pro- 
vided with  inside  shutters,  firmly  closed,  and  the  room 
was  lighted  by  numerous  lamps  at  the  sides. 

Solan  Hai  had  heard  the  summons  of  the  king  to 
this  interview  with  much  misgiving.  Fear  was  foreign 
to  his  sturdy  nature,  but,  he  dreaded  the  questions  as 
to  his  occult  powers.  However,  he  was  well  prepared 
for  inquiries,  long  practice  and  immunity  had  given  him 
confidence  in  his  ability  to  ward  off  suspicion  and  con- 

248 


The  Refinement  of  Torture.  249 

ceal  subterfuges,  notwithstanding  the  most  searching 
investigation. 

The  uncertain  realm  of  the  supernatural  presented  an 
obtuse  problem,  knowledge  of  which  was  exceedingly 
limited.  This  strange  freak  of  cunning  and  duplicity, 
known  as  the  "wizard  of  Jerusalem,"  found  it  an  ample 
field  for  the  display  of  his  peculiarities.  He  surrounded 
himself,  and  those  whom  he  desired  to  influence,  with 
enforced  conditions  and  unrelenting  restrictions. 

If  the  manner  of  the  king  was  any  index  of  his  feel- 
ings, Solan  Hai  had  nothing  to  fear.  There  was  naught 
in  the  face  of  Herod  that  conveyed  ought  but  the  kind- 
liest regard  for  the  man  standing  in  his  presence.  If 
he  was  indignant,  or  mortified,  or  angered  he  gave  no 
indication  of  either,  and,  if  he  had  any  resentment,  it 
was  hidden  under  the  most  bland  and  cordial  demeanor. 

"I  have  sent  for  thee,  my  friend,  because  none  other 
hath  done  the  works  thou  hast  performed.  Not  even 
Daniel,  nor  Aaron,  nor  Moses.  Thou  art  truly  the 
friend  of  the  king." 

The  welcome  came  smoothly  from  the  lips  of  Herod, 
and  Solan  Hai  allowed  every  misgiving  to  take  wings, 
as  he  listened  to  this  greeting.  Bowing  low  before  the 
king  the  wizard  answered : 

"Most  gracious  sovereign,  it  is  the  pleasure  of  thy 
most  unworthy  servant  to  live  only  in  obedience  to  thy 
will.  Peace  be  unto  thee —  the  Lord's  annointed.?' 

"Thou  art  the  greatest  in  Israel,"  said  the  king. 
"Slave — a  seat  for  one  who  sooths  my  troubled  mind." 

One  of  the  black  attendants  placed  a  seat  at  the  right 
and  slightly  in  front  of  Herod.  The  wizard  accepted 
it  and,  lifting  his  snaky  eyes,  looked  into  the  face  of 
the  king. 

"Nebuchadnezzar  commanded  that  an  oblation  and 


250  Joachim's  Daughter. 

sweet  odors  should  be  offered,  and  he  made  Daniel  a 
great  man,  giving  him  many  gifts,  and  rule  over  the 
whole  province  of  Babylon.  In  after  years  Belshazzar 
clothed  this  same  Daniel  with  scarlet,  put  a  gold  chain 
about  his  neck  and  made  proclamation,  concerning  him, 
that  he  should  be  the  third  ruler  in  the  kingdom.  Am 
I  right?"  The  king  earnestly  scanned  the  face  before 
him. 

"Thou  art  right,  oh,  king!"  replied  Solan  Hai,  with 
a  glow  of  satisfaction  that  tingled  from  the  soles  of  his 
feet  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 

"Moses  and  Aaron  did  many  wonders  before  the  king 
of  Egypt.  It  is  also  recorded,  that  a  woman,  at  Endor, 
raised  Samuel  from  the  dead,"  continued  the  king. 
"Are  these  things  true?" 

"Could  the  king  doubt?"  modestly  inquired  the 
wizard. 

"Not  after  what  mine  eyes  beheld  while  in  thy  com- 
pany. Thou  art  greatest  of  them  all." 

A  steely  tone  had  stolen  into  the  voice  of  the  king, 
Solan  Hai  noticed  it  and  a  strange  terrified  feeling  sent 
a  shiver  through  his  body. 

"It  was  a  small  matter,  oh,  king,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Say'st  thou  so,"  said  Herod,  "and  hast  thou  recov- 
ered thy  usual  energy?" 

"To  a  limited  extent,"  answered  the  wizard,  cau- 
tiously. 

"Thou  did'st  promise  that  again  I  should  behold  that 
vision.  The  week,  for  which  thou  did'st  stipulate,  is 
nearly  past.  On  the  morrow  would  have  been  time  for 
the  redemption  of  thine  agreement.  Surely  to  one, 
great  as  thou,  a  few  hours  could  make  no  difference. 
Look  about  thee.  See  what  I  have  prepared." 

The  king  waved  his  hand  toward  the  back  of  the 


The  Refinement  of  Torture.  251 

room,  and  the  wizard  took  a  hasty  survey  of  the  place. 
For  the  first  time  he  noticed  the  curtain  swinging  across 
the  farther  end. 

"I  invited  thee  to  be  all  alone  with  myself.  We  will 
invoke  and  conjure  together.  The  invisible  will  be 
revealed  to  us.  Thou  shalt  practice  thine  art.  The 
king  will  be  thy  pupil." 

Thus,  as  the  wild  beast  caresses  the  prey  soon  to  be 
devoured,  did  the  king  toy  with  his  victim. 

In  all  his  long  experience  and  acquaintance  with 
Herod,  the  wizard  had  never  known  him  to  speak  in 
this  manner.  A  flush  of  excitement,  or  anger,  was  creep- 
ing over  the  face  of  the  king,  and  Solan  Hai  felt  that 
the  gravest  danger  of  his  life  threatened,  yet,  he  looked 
steadily  into  the  gloomy  eyes  of  Herod  and  answered 
collectedly : 

"The  king  requires  a  most  extraordinary  thing.  No 
magician  can  teach.  Their  gifts  are  given  of  the  gods, 
and  not  to  be  acquired  by  man." 

"When  did'st  thou  discover  thy  marvelous  gift?" 
asked  Herod. 

"It  is  the  earliest  recollection  of  thy  servant,"  replied 
the  wizard.  "Such  things  are  born  with  those  to  whom 
they  are  given." 

"Thou  can'st  not  lose  this  wondrous  power  ?"  said  the 
king. 

A  flush  akin  to  the  color  that  dyed  the  face  of  Herod 
appeared  on  the  cheek  of  the  wizard.  He  could  ill 
brook  this  questioning  with  its  hidden  meaning.  For 
a  moment  he  lost  sight  of  the  danger,  and  anger  pre- 
dominated the  tones  of  his  voice  as  he  answered  shortly: 

"Such  queries  I  have  never  discussed  with  mortal 
man.  Thy  servant  only  knows  that  the  power  is  within, 
and  only  works  under  proper  conditions." 


2$2  Joachim's  Daughter. 

The  king  took  no  heed  of  the  sullen  countenance  of 
the  wizard. 

"Name  the  most  exacting  conditions !"  he  exclaimed. 
"Thy  king  will  furnish  every  requirement  and  place  it 
at  thy  disposal.  My  soul  longs  for  further  display  of 
thy  power.  Go  within  the  curtain  yonder.  Examine 
carefully  the  room.  Come !  do  not  hesitate." 

Solan  Hai  had  recovered  his  self-control. 

"I  go,  my  king,"  he  said,  rising,  "because  thou  dost 
command." 

He  passed  to  the  curtain,  did  examine  it  closely,  and 
the  room  beyond.  He  looked  keenly  at  the  floor  and  felt 
the  walls ;  both  were  bare  and  smooth.  His  investigation 
revealed  nothing — absolutely  nothing — back  of  the  cur- 
tain. But  the  scrutiny  gave  him  time  to  think  and  plan. 
To  gain  time  and  put  the  king  off  was  the  burden  press- 
ing on  his  mind. 

"Is  all  as  thou  would'st  desire?"  inquired  the  king, 
as  the  wizard,  after  delaying  as  long  as  he  dared,  came 
forth. 

"Everything  is  adjusted  as  might  be  required," 
replied  the  perplexed  Hai.  "But,  thy  servant  can  not 
answer  for  the  conditions.  To  tempt  the  unseen  may 
bring  frightful  disaster  to  both  of  us." 

"Or  one  of  us,"  added  the  king,  in  a  tone  so  signifi- 
cant as  to  alarm  the  wizard. 

"Oh,  king,  have  patience!"  cried  Hai,  driven  to  his 
wit's  end.  "Thy  servant  will  explain.  The  powers 
governing  the  spirit  world  must  be  propitiated  by  fast- 
ings and  supplications." 

"If  that  be  so  the  conditions  have  been  complied 
with,"  asserted  Herod  calmly.  "Since  the  time  I  beheld 
Mariamne,  at  thy  residence,  have  I  not  eaten  meat, 
neither  hath  wine  passed  my  lips — and  my  soul  hath 


The  Refinement  of  Torture.  253 

been  so  troubled  that  sleep  hath  forsaken  my  eyes.  Do 
not  disappoint  thy  king.  I  command  thee,  proceed." 

In  sheer  desperation,  no  other  available  excuse  offer- 
ing itself,  Solan  Hai  turned  his  face  toward  the  cur- 
tain. At  a  signal  the  Ethiopians  extinguished  the 
lights,  save  the  two  that  flickered  weirdly  behind  the 
couch  where  the  king  reposed.  The  incantations  of  the 
former  exhibition  were  repeated — all  in  vain,  the  cur- 
tain remained  immovable,  and  the  wizard  protested  that 
under  the  existing  conditions  his  efforts  must  remain- 
futile. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  resources,  with  which  he 
was  gifted,  it  was  not  quite  clear  to  Solan  Hai  how  he 
was  to  satisfy  the  king  and  extract  himself  from  the 
unenviable  situation.  He  watched  the  changing  humor 
of  the  king,  who  was  playing  fast  and  loose  with  him, 
and  almost  despaired  of  satisfying  this  seeker  after  the 
hidden  mysteries  of  the  beyond. 

As  effort  after  effort  of  the  wizard  passed  without 
the  slightest  manifestation  of  anything  like  success,  and 
no  answer  came  to  the  desperate  invitations  and 
beseechings  of  the  thoroughly  wearied  imposter,  Herod 
began  to  show  signs  of  impatience. 

"Stand  aside !"  he  exclaimed,  abruptly.  "Thou  shall 
take  my  place.  I  will  take  thine." 

"Not  so,  my  king!"  cried  Solan  Hai,  almost  per- 
suaded that  the  king  had  lost  his  senses. 

"But  I  say,  it  shall  be  so !"  promptly  replied  the  king 
stepping  toward  the  curtain.  "Seat  thyself.  Thy  mas- 
ter shall  try." 

Hai  had  nothing  left  but  to  accept  this  challenge  and 
await  the  disappointment  of  the  monarch,  whom  he  now 
believed  to  be  actually  mad. 

His  majesty  passed  slowly  to  the  center  of  the  floor 


.254  Joachim's  Daughter. 

motioning  toward  the  closed  curtain,  meanwhile  stamp- 
ing violently.  The  heavy  curtain  swayed,  parted  and 
moved  slowly  aside.  A  rumbling,  as  of  the  tramp  of 
horses'  feet,  shook  the  room  for  a  moment  and  died 
away.  Sweet  strains  of  music  were  borne  to  the  ears 
of  the  astonished  wizard.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
started  forward.  The  king  turned : 

"Dare'st  thou  break  the  conditions?"  he  stormed. 

At  the  word  Solan  Hai  felt  his  wrists  grasped  by  the 
eunuchs,  his  giant  arms  were  pinioned,  held  as  if  in  a 
vice.  The  wizard  could  neither  move  forward  or  back. 

Again  the  king  turned  his  attention  to  the  work 
before  him.  He  lifted  his  arms  above  his  head  and 
waved  his  hands  in  perfect  imitation  of  the  gestures 
employed  by  the  wizard. 

Sweet  incense,  fragrant  odors  and  perfumes  per- 
meated the  whole  room.  The  king  paced  slowly  back- 
ward, past  where  stood  the  eunuchs  and  their  prisoner. 
He  ascended  the  steps  of  his  resting  place  and  sank 
upon  the  cushions. 

"Move  forward,  somewhat,  thou  may'st  better  see 
if  thou  art  a  little  closer,"  said  the  king,  and  the 
eunuchs  led  Solan  Hai  a  few  steps  nearer  the  curtain. 

"Mark  well  the  conditions,  oh,  wizard  of  Jerusalem ! 
Thou  may'st  be  assisted  in  thy  future  incantations," 
continued  the  king. 

This  bit  of  sarcasm  was  the  first  intimation  Solan 
Hai  had  of  the  real  disposition  of  the  king,  and  it  was 
not  lost  upon  the  impostor.  He  was  well  aware  that 
Tie  might  expect  no  manner  of  consideration,  clemency, 
or  mercy  at  the  hands  of  offended  dignity.  He  braced 
"himself  for  any  calamity  and  resolved  to  betray  neither 
curiosity  nor  fear. 

"With  exercise  of  the  gift  within  thee,  thou,   oh 


The  Refinement  of  Torture.  255 

king,  shalt  outrival  even  Daniel,  or,  the  famous  lady 
of  Endor."  He  answered  back  firmly  and  promptly. 

"This  night  shalt  thou  outrival  Hamon !"  retorted 
the  exasperated  king.  "Thou  hast  digged  a  pit ;  into  it 
thou  shalt  fall!" 

"So  be  it,  oh  king!  And  I  will  return  to  teach  thee 
that  gods  rule,  not  men." 

Solan  Hai  had  succeeded  in  having  the  last  word. 
The  superstitious  fear  of  Herod  was  aroused.  Not- 
withstanding his  conviction  that  the  wizard  was  not 
what  he  pretended  to  be,  and  that  unmerciful  deception 
had  been  practiced,  the  dread  of  that  unknown,  under 
world,  where  demons  dwell,  was  securely  held  in  the 
make-up  of  the  men  of  the  time,  and  the  king  was  not 
exempt.  The  threat  of  the  wizard  struck  terror  to  the 
heart  of  Herod.  It  was  a  bold,  masterly  stroke,  and 
inspired  a  spirit  of  apprehensive  fear  in  the  mind  of  the 
revengeful  king.  Yet,  he  did  not  hesitate,  had  he  wished 
to  do  so,  his  plans  were  so  well  laid,  that  it  would  have 
been  weakness  to  turn  back. 

The  curtained  place  took  on  a  luminous  aspect.  Vol- 
umes of  vapor  poured  from  the  recesses.  Forms  flitted 
to  and  fro,  forward  and  back,  seeming  to  grow  up  from 
the  floor,  before  the  dilating  eyes  of  the  wizard,  as  on 
a  former  occasion.  Some  of  them  were  white  robed, 
while  others  were  veiled  in  black.  They  took  up  a 
line  and  marched  in  single  file  toward  where  the  wizard 
and  eunuchs  stood.  They  all  circled  about  the  three 
men  silently,  except  that  as  they  passed,  every  one  of 
them  whispered  some  epithet  of  opprobrium  into  the 
ear  of  the  wizard.  He  gazed  at  the  scene  like  one  petri- 
fied, realized  his  standing  with  the  king,  and,  without 
once  giving  intimation  of  the  anguished  working  of 
his  thoughts,  bore  this  torture  with  great  fortitude. 


256  Joachim's  Daughter. 

During  these  marches  and  countermarches  the  king 
had  time  to  collect  himself.  He  watched  the  spectacle 
of  the  moving  forms,  and  a  feeling  of  his  own  strength 
returned.  His  decision  was  confirmed  and  he  became 
encouraged  in  his  purpose,  besides,  the  novelty  of  this 
form  of  amusement  was  a  positive  pleasure. 

The  spectres  gathered,  in  grim  array,  at  the  sides  of 
the  center  opening.  The  vapors  grew  thin  and  a  pale 
light  appeared  in  the  recess.  A  halo  of  color  encircled 
the  actors.  Even  to  the  condemned  onlooker  the  irre- 
sistible charm  of  the  picture  was  felt. 

The  king  arose  and  clapped  his  hands  three  times. 

"Alta!"  he  called  dramatically.  "Alta,  daughter 
of  Simon  Gatzor,  the  merchant  of  Hebron !" 

In  a  moment,  seemingly  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
the  beautiful  Alta,  robed  as  queen  Mariamne,  came  into 
full  view,  languidly  floating  among  the  clouds  of 
vapor,  which  now  slowly  disappeared,  revealing  the 
woman,  radiant  with  almost  unearthly  loveliness. 

She  raised  her  rounded  arm  and  pointed  a  delicate 
finger  to  where  the  wizard  stood. 

With  a  superhuman  effort,  the  maddened  victim 
wrenched  himself  free  from  the  grasp  of  the  eunuchs. 
If  there  had  ever  been,  in  the  life  of  the  infuriated 
wretch,  one  disinterested  thought,  or  sentiment,  it  had 
been  in  the  love  he  bore  this  same  splendid  creature, 
who  had  betrayed  him,  and  accomplished  his  downfall. 

In  simple  justice  it  should  be  said,  that  the  promise, 
to  the  king,  had  been  made  without  the  least  intention 
of  fulfillment,  and  in  acquiescence  to  the  desires 
expressed  by  the  monarch. 

He  understood  now.  She  had  refused  him  the  kind- 
ness she  showed  the  servants,  even  while  she  recklessly 
accepted  the  bounty  he  lavished  upon  her.  She  would 


The  Refinement  of  Torture.  257 

become  the  mistress  of  the  king,  he  thought.  It  should 
not  be.  In  desperation  he  sprang  toward  her — it  was  but 
a  step. 

Crash — every  light  went  out.  A  heavy  body  dropped 
to  the  polished  floor;  it  was  a  solid  partition  coming 
from  above  and  sliding  into  place,  just  between  the 
curtain  and  the  frantic  wizard. 

"Lights!"  cried  the  king.     "Lights!" 

From  the  adjoining  apartments  a  number  of  retainers 
filed  in,  passing  on  either  side  of  the  king,  taking  places 
about  the  room.  They  bore  lighted  torches,  and  the 
king  was  found  seated  on  his  couch.  The  eunuchs 
bore  the  unconscious  Solan  Hai  forward. 

They  laid  him  near  the  center  of  the  floor,  with  his 
head  toward  the  king  and  his  feet  extended  toward 
the  partition  wall  that  had  taken  the  place  of  the  cur- 
tain. They  then  assumed  their  usual  positions  at  the 
feet  of  Herod.  All  the  other  actors,  mundane  or 
heavenly,  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

CHAMBER  OF  DEATH. 

The  features  of  Herod  wore  a  dark  and  sinister 
expression  as  he  regarded  the  insensible  rogue  at  his 
feet.  The  blackness  of  night  was  in  the  glance  of  his 
keen  old  eyes,  and  from  his  heart  pity  was  as  far 
removed  as  the  east  is  separated  from  the  west. 

He  was  painfully  alive  to  the  fact,  that,  for  a  long 
period  past,  the  wizard  had  used  his  pretended  powers 
as  a  screen  for  crimes,  and  that  during  this  time  the 
schemer  had  so  ingratiated  himself  with  the  king  as  to 
use  his  majesty  in  the  aid  and  furtherance  of  nefarious 
and  diabolical  transactions. 

That  Solan  Hai  was,  in  all  probability,  much  worse 
than  a  cheat  and  swindler,  Herod  was  convinced ;  more- 
over, the  wizard  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the 
wealthiest  men  at  Jerusalem.  This,  of  itself,  was  no 
small  matter,  and  weighed  heavily  in  the  scale  against 
Hai.  A  golden  opportunity  was  offered  for  the  serv- 
ing of  a  double  purpose ;  to  get  even  with  the  man  who 
had  deceived  him  for  a  lifetime,  and  to  seize  the  ill- 
gotten  gains  of  the  deceiver.  The  day  of  reckoning  had 
come,  the  king  would  not  pass  it  by.  He  had  decided  to 
make  brief  the  disposal  of  his  hitherto  trusted  servant. 

The  torch-bearers  proceeded  to  relight  and  adjust 
the  lamps.  Never  one  of  them  so  much  as  looked 
toward  the  man  lying  on  the  floor.  Severe  training  had 
taught  them  to  evince  neither  surprise  nor  concern  at 

258 


Chamber  of  Death.  259 

what  they  might  behold.  Their  service  finished,  they 
filed  from  the  room,  apparently  as  oblivious  of  the 
scene  they  had  witnessed  as  though  they  had  been  mere 
machines,  moved  and  directed  by  an  unseen  power. 

The  wizard  gave  indications  of  returning  conscious- 
ness. He  turned  on  his  side  and  emitted  a  groan,  as 
if  in  a  spasm  of  pain. 

The  indomitable  Herod  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Lift  him  up,"  he  commanded,  "something  to  restore 
and  nourish  him.  I  am  not  through  with  the  seer  of 
Jerusalem." 

The  black  men  went  about  the  executing  of  these 
orders  with  dispatch.  Strong  drink  was  quickly  pro- 
cured, the  head  of  the  prostrate  man  was  raised,  and 
the  cup  pressed  to  his  lips.  A  few  drops  of  the  liquor 
trickled  into  the  mouth  of  Hai,  and  his  throat  became 
moistened.  The  fluid  revived  him  almost  immediately. 
He  reached  forth  eagerly  and,  grasping  the  cup,  drained 
its  contents  to  the  dregs.  Dropping  the  vessel  and 
clasping  his  head  with  nerveless  hands,  he  staggered  to 
an  upright  position. 

He  gazed  about  in  bewilderment  and  exclamations 
fell  disconnectedly  from  his  faltering  lips.  With  an 
effort  he  gathered  his  scattered  senses,  and  the  objects 
about  him  became  familiar.  Mind  and  memory  asserted 
their  sway.  Looking  up  at  the  king,  as  if  to  assure  him- 
self, he  met  a  stony  gaze  of  indignant  anger. 

"Thou  son  of  perdition,  can'st  thou  answer?"  fumed 
the  king,  without  attempting  to  disguise  or  smother  his 
resentment. 

"Softly,  softly,  most  gracious  majesty!"  murmured 
the  oily  ruffian,  in  his  most  insinuating  tone,  "such 
language  does  ill  grace  the  tongue  of  the  king,  who 
rules  by  sufferance  and  permission  of  Augustus." 


26o  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"What  mean'st  thou,  churl?"  Hotly  rejoined  the 
king. 

"A  dog  may  suffer  at  the  hand  of  his  master — may 
be  kicked,  smitten,  cuffed  and  cursed,  yet,  will  the  poor 
cur  gladly  lick  the  hand  that  dealt  the  blows.  Think' st 
thou  thy  servant  is  a  dog?"  cried  Solan  Hai,  unable  to 
restrain  his  passion. 

"No!"  answered  the  king,  unutterable  scorn  vibrat- 
ing through  his  tense  tones.  "No,  thou  art  no  dog.  Far 
be  it  from  me  to  insult  such  faithful  kind  by  liking  thee 
to  the  lowest  cur  that  crawls  the  gutter  and  exists  upon 
the  offal.  Enough !  Thou  shalt  not  banter  words  with 
thy  king,  who  holds  thee  over  a  pit  much  as  he  would 
a  loathsome  reptile  cringing  and  twisting  above  a 
flame." 

"Thy  servant  might  have  craved  thy  mercy,  even 
for  a  fancied  offense,  if  he  had  thought  thou  had'st 
knowledge  of  such  a  quality,"  retorted  Hai,  with  a 
reckless  sneer  on  his  ugly  lips. 

"Silence  thy  tongue !"  thundered  the  king.  "Did'st 
thou  have  mercy  when  ruthlessly  tearing  open  the 
wounds  of  a  broken  heart  ?  Did'st  thou  remember  ought 
of  pity  when  thou  did'st  awaken  the  smoldering  pangs 
of  the  soul  and  conscience  of  thy  king?  Answer  me, 
thou  scorpion !  Tell  me  of  thy  mercy,  when  thou  did'st 
make  of  me  a  shuttlecock  and  plaything  through 
accursed  witchery  and  lying  wonders." 

Solan  Hai  regretted  his  hasty  defiance  of  the  king. 
He  would  fain  have  conciliated  the  outraged  monarch. 

"To  what  thou  dost  refer,  I  am  at  loss  to  under- 
stand," he  said  slowly.  "Thou  dost  darken  counsel  by 
thy  riddles.  I  cannot  comprehend.  What  put  thee  in 
this  frame  of  mind?  Why  rail  at  thy  minister,  who 
hath  served  thee  long  and  well  ?" 


Chamber  of  Death.  261 

"Cease  this  argument,  thou  whited  sepulchre," 
ordered  the  king.  "Persistence  in  deceit,  coupled  with 
a  lying  tongue,  doth  but  add  insult  to  the  injury  of 
already  irreparable  wrong." 

The  bitter  accusation  stung  Hai  to  further  insolence. 

"It  is  meet  thou  should'st  prove  before  venturing  to 
accuse,"  he  said  deliberately.  "I,  also,  am  a  subject  of 
Augustus." 

"If  so?"  said  the  king. 

"Thou  wilt  not  dare  to  harm  a  hair  of  my  head,  oh 
king,  without  proof  of  thy  wanton  charges.  I  will 
depart.  Thine  ingratitude  hath  deprived  thee  of  the 
best  among  thy  counsellors.  If  there  be  ought  against 
me,  thy  faithful  servant  and  retainer  until  this  present 
moment,  that  could  have  given  thee  offense,  it  should 
be  charged  in  public  and  so  proven.  When  thou  hast 
fairly  considered  the  issue,  methinks  thou  wilt  not 
push  this  matter  further." 

"So,  before  the  people  of  Jerusalem,  thou  would'st 
make  of  thy  master  a  laughing  stock.  Every  contin- 
gency hath  been  duly  considered.  Even  now,  thine 
habitations  are  in  the  possession  of  my  trusted  officers. 
Thy  retinue  of  servants,  spys,  robbers,  assassins,  all 
thy  minions,  are  by  this  time  safely  confined  within 
the  friendly  walls  of  Antonia,  from  whence  none  shall 
ever  come  forth,  save  and  except,  those  who  may  best 
suit  the  purposes  of  the  king.  They  cannot  escape, 
neither  can'st  thou,  oh  seer  of  Jerusalem,  hope  for 
release." 

"Would'st  thou  add  another  murder  to  thy  many 
crimes?"  asked  the  victim. 

The  speech  was  unfortunate.  Again  the  fury  of  the 
king  blazed  forth. 

"Inch  by  inch — piece  by  piece — with  less  compunc- 


262  Joachim's  Daughter. 

tion  than  I'd  feel  in  the  smiting  of  a  serpent,  would 
I  kill  thee,"  snarled  the  monarch. 

"Then  I  may  expect  neither  mercy  npr  considera- 
tion at  thine  hands,"  said  Hai  boldly.  "Thou  know'st 
not  the  meaning  of  justice.  Already  I  am  condemned. 
Proceed,  executioner." 

"Thy  marvelous  presumption  and  audacity  amaze 
me,"  said  Herod.  "Thou  shalt  be  confronted,  face  to 
face,  with  witnesses." 

"Thy  threats  become  thee,  oh  master  of  ceremonies," 
was  the  contemptuous  reply. 

"Less  of  bravado  might  have  prolonged  thine  exist- 
ence," rejoined  the  king. 

"I  neither  fear  thine  anger,  nor  trust  thy  promises," 
coolly  answered  Hai.  "Do  thy  worst  and  utmost. 
There  will  be  a  day  of  judgment." 

"So  far  as  thou  art  concerned,  that  day  is  come,"  was 
the  uncompromising  retort.  "Behold  thy  confederate 
and  accuser." 

Herod  stepped  backward  to  his  couch  and  leaned 
against  the  framework  of  the  canopy.  At  the  right,  the 
curtains,  concealing  an  entrance,  parted,  and  Alta 
Gatzor,  still  arrayed  in  the  diaphanous  draperies,  in 
which  she  had  impersonated  queen  Mariamne,  stepped 
from  between  the  folds. 

The  wizard  darted  one  swift  glance  in  the  direction 
of  the  woman.  He  saw  the  air  of  triumph,  plainly 
expressing  her  relentless  disposition  toward  himself, 
and  he  knew  that  he  was  within  her  toils. 

"I  understand  and  divine,  oh  king,  how  cunningly 
thou  hast  been  deceived,"  Hai  exclaimed  in  a  changed 
voice.  "How  we  both  have  been  cruelly  wronged  and 
outraged  by  the  Jezebel,  standing  at  thy  side.  I  see  it 
all!  I  see  it  all!" 


Chamber  of  Death.  263 

Receiving  no  answer  to  this  adroit  attempt  to  turn 
the  tables  upon  the  woman,  whom  he  was  convinced 
had  become  his  mortal  enemy,  he  ignored  the  look  of 
disdain  with  which  she  was  regarding  him  and  con- 
tinued. 

"This  woman  is  the  most  skillful  sorceress  and  witch 
in  all  Judea.  She  is  the  author  of  all  our  trouble,  oh 
king !  Having  in  her  treacherous  mind  the  purpose  to 
destroy  thy  faithful  servant  as  a  rival  for  thy  favor." 

Solan  Hai  looked  hopefully  at  the  king.  There  was 
no  misinterpreting  the  open  hostility  of  Alta. 

"Thou  art  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  all  lying  hypoc- 
risy, and  the  consummation  of  all  villainy!"  she 
exclaimed,  angrily. 

Solan  Hai  gazed,  spellbound  for  a  moment,  into 
Alta's  beautiful  face.  He  saw,  in  her,  the  fire  that  was 
consuming  his  dearest  aspirations,  and  he  saw,  too,  the 
beauty  of  the  flame.  Her  power,  he  had  never  surmised ; 
she  had  won  the  confidence  of  the  king;  she  was 
greater  than  he  had  believed. 

"Say  on — "  he  exclaimed  as  she  paused.  Then  as 
Alta  declined  to  reply,  he  continued : 

"Trust  her  not,  oh  my  king !  In  time  she  will  be  thine 
undoing,  as  this  day  she  is  mine.  Listen  not  to  the 
voice  of  the  siren.  The  volubility  of  her  tongue  is 
equaled  only  by  her  power  to  deceive.  She  will  lure 
thee  to  destruction.  Behold,  on  my  knees  I  implore 
thee !"  He  fell  prostrate.  "Let  thy  servant  be  heard," 
he  pleaded.  "I  have  been  cruelly  deceived  by  her 
sorcery  and  led  to  believe  in  the  return  of  thy  wife  from 
the  dead." 

"Monster  of  iniquity,"  replied  the  king,  "again  hast 
thou  outraged  the  truth." 

Hai  sprang  up  in  a  fury. 


264  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Send  for  my  butler,"  he  hissed.  "He  had  charge 
of  Alta  Gatzor's  house.  Send  for  her  father,  he  will 
explain  the  conduct  of  this  woman.  She  is  the  accom- 
plice of  Panthera."  Hai  entirely  forgot  himself  in  his 
rage.  "Panthera,"  he  repeated,  "who  was  the  companion 
of  Joachim,  the  rebel  and  conspirator.  Thy  majesty 
will  remember  this  disturber;  the  soldier,  whom  thou 
did'st  degrade." 

"But,  thou  did'st  speak  well  of  him.  In  the  consid- 
eration of  his  case,  thou  did'st  crave  my  forbearance," 
answered  Herod. 

"Truly  hast  thou  spoken,  most  gracious  king," 
replied  Hai,  earnestly.  "It  was  a  price  insisted  upon 
by  this  woman.  I  was  to  protect  her  lover,  she,  in 
turn,  was  to  deliyer  into  the  hands  of  thy  servant  all 
the  other  conspirators.  Instead,  she  hath  taken  this 
cunningly  devised  plan  as  a  means  of  overthrowing  thy 
servant  and  deceiving  thyself." 

The  king  seemed  not  to  give  ear  to  the  words  of  the 
wizard. 

"Let  Simon  Gatzor  be  produced,"  he  ordered. 

This  cringing,  fawning  wretch,  the  father  of  the 
gloriously  beautiful  Alta,  walked  from  behind  the  cur- 
tain, or  rather,  shambled  out,  for  it  appeared  impossi- 
ble for  the  poor  whining  sycophant  to  lift  his  feet ;  more 
especially  was  this  characteristic  marked,  as  he  shrank 
back  from  before  the  clouded  countenance  of  his  olcf 
master. 

"Simon,"  the  wizard  fixed  his  compelling  eyes  on  the 
frightened  man,  "Simon,  my  good  Simon,  speak!" 

"Silence,"  interposed  the  king,  "he  shall  speak  for 
himself,  and  without  interruption.  Go  on  Gatzor!" 

Simon  Gatzor  shifted  his  weight  from  one  foot  to 
the  other  and  back  again. 


Chamber  of  Death.  265 

"Well — "  he  began,  "well,  it  is  quite  true,  my  daugh- 
ter, Alta,  hath  always  been  a  wayward  child."  The 
man  twisted  his  long  bony  fingers  together  and  drew 
his  ungainly  shoulders  up  until  they  seemed  to  rest 
against  the  back  of  his  head.  All  the  time  he  gazed,  as 
though  fascinated,  into  the  intent  face  of  the  wizard, 
who  returned  the  look  with  an  intensity  born  of  hope. 
"Still,  she's  my  child !  My  little  child !  My  God !  My 
only  child !"  In  dread  lest  harm  was  to  come  to  her 
the  head  of  the  poor  father  sank  forward,  and  tears  of 
pitiable  anguish  rolled  down  his  furrowed  cheeks. 

Hai  took  a  quick  stride  toward  where  the  man 
stood.  At  a  signal  from  Herod,  one  of  the  stalwart 
eunuchs  passed  between  the  wizard  and  the  man,  Gat- 
zor. 

"I  must  have  knowledge  of  everything  between  thy- 
self and  Solan  Hai,"  said  the  king,  addressing  the 
broken  tool.  "Go  on  my  man.  Tell  me  thy  story." 

"Father  dear,  tell  the  king  all.  Be  not  afraid."  The 
silvery  voice  of  his  beloved  daughter,  encouraged  the 
weeping  man.  He  lifted  his  head  and  turned  fully 
toward  the  king. 

"I  was  a  small  trader,  a  very  small  trader,  in  the 
town  of  Nazareth,  where  I  was  born,"  he  commenced, 
humbly.  "We  were  happy,  my  wife,  my  child,  and 
myself.  One  day  this  man,  Solan  Hai,  darkened  the 
light  of  our  little  home.  Since  then  I  have  been  only  a 
slave,  his  dog.  He  opened  up  to  me  questionable 
schemes  whereby  wealth  and  riches  flowed  into  my 
hands.  The  first  step  was  easy,  and  when  I  had  yielded 
to  the  first  temptation,  another  quickly  followed.  There 
could  be  no  receding,  no  turning  back.  At  last  crime 
was  added  to  my  misdoings,  and  I  was  completely  in  his 
power — my  life,  my  home,  my  property,  my  God,  my 


266  Joachim's  Daughter. 

family,  my  child.  He  demanded  of  me,  that  she  should 
come  to  Jerusalem  to  live — he  told  me  it  was  her  wish 
— she  said  it  was.  As  long  as  I  dared,  I  resisted  this. 
He  had  placed  me  in  business  in  a  large  way,  a  mer- 
chant and  trader  in  the  town  of  Hebron.  He  threat- 
ened to  ruin  me  if  I  did  not  consent  to  the  arrange- 
ment. He  promised  to  marry  my  poor  child — she 
seemed  to  be  willing,  and,  oh  king,  she  came  to  the 
city.  We  could  not  stay  behind,  her  poor  mother  and 
I,  we  followed  her,  and  lived  here  in  great  style  and 
magnificence — all  furnished  by  his  hand."  The  voice 
of  the  speaker  shook  with  fear  and  emotion  and  grew 
shrill  as  he  excitedly  continued :  "She  had  been  very 
poor  all  her  life,  dear  little  girl.  Have  mercy  on  her, 
and  on  her  poor,  old,  broken-hearted  father." 

In  abject  grief  and  despair  the  dupe  of  Solan  Hai 
threw  himself  on  the  floor,  at  the  feet  of  the  king. 

"Arise !"  commanded  Herod,  "be  seated  here," 
pointing  to  a  place  near  Alta.  "Let  the  butler  be  called." 

Again  the  curtain  parted  and  Costa  came  forth.  The 
wizard  gave  one  swift  look,  and  knew  Costa  would  say 
nothing  that  could  be  used  to  extract  him  from  his 
awkward  dilemma. 

Without  hesitancy  the  trusted  confederate  of  Solan 
Hai  proceeded  to  expose  the  dual  life  of  the  wizard.  He 
related  the  history  of  his  intercourse  with  the  king's 
friend,  for  the  last  twenty  years.  The  king  listened; 
Solan  Hai  scowled.  There  could  be  no  answer;  the 
acquisitions  were  overwhelming;  the  evidence  was 
complete. 

"'Tis  enough !"  cried  the  king,  interrupting  the  tirade 
of  Costa,  who  could  have  consumed  the  entire  night 
with  denunciations.  "Alta  Gatzor,  thou  may'st  remain." 

Simon  Gatzor  and  the  garrulous  Costa  retired  imme- 


Chamber  of  Death.  267 

diately,  and  Solan  Hai  stood  alone  before  his  deadly 
enemies,  the  king,  whom  he  had  betrayed,  and  the  peer- 
less beauty,  who  had  used  him  as  a  stepping  stone  to 
the  favor  of  Herod. 

"Solan  Hai,"  spoke  the  king.    "Prepare  to  die." 

"I  am  ready,"  was  the  grim  answer. 

The  Ethiopians  seized  the  wizard  and  half  carried 
him  backward  to  a  diamond  shaped  figure  inlaid  in  the 
smooth  floor.  They  left  him  there,  and  he  stood  erect, 
seemingly  careless  of  his  surroundings. 

"Alta,  thou  queen  of  beauty  and  love,"  exclaimed 
Herod,  "be  at  rest,  and  behold  the  vengeance  of  thy 
king." 

He  made  room  for  her  and  she  sank  into  a  place  on 
the  couch,  near  enough  to  have  touched  the  skirt  of 
his  garment. 

"With  thee,  alone,  is  there  mercy  for  him,"  continued 
the  king. 

"With  me,  there  can  be  no  mercy,"  Alta  said  vehe- 
mently. "My  heart  finds  no  pity  for  such  a  monster. 
He  is  not  fit  to  cumber  the  earth.  If  thy  power  can 
compass  it,  let  him  die." 

"It  is  said!"  pronounced  Herod  solemnly. 

The  floor  of  the  room  shook  slightly.  There  was  a 
whirring,  rasping  sound.  The  face  of  Solan  Hai  was 
set  and  stern.  A  black  scowl,  of  hate  and  fury,  low- 
ered his  heavy  brows,  and  his  eyes  snapped  with 
venom,  that  found  expression,  as  he  looked  at  the 
tableau  before  him.  Alta,  radiantly  lovely,  seated  on  the 
very  couch  of  the  king. 

A  sudden  jar,  the  section  of  the  floor,  on  which  the 
wizard  stood,  dropped,  bodily,  for  a  distance  of  several 
feet.  For  the  first  time,  a  look  of  consternation  betrayed 
the  fear  of  the  seer.  He  started  forward  to  gain  a  foot- 


268  Joachim's  Daughter. 

ing  on  the  part  of  the  floor  in  front.  It  was  swinging 
slowly  downward,  revealing  a  dark  line  of  space 
between  him  and  where  the  others  were  seated.  He 
hastily  faced  about.  Back  of  him  was  only  the  blank 
partition  wall,  that  had  fallen  before  the  curtained 
recess. 

Scarcely  an  instant  passed  before  he  realized  his  pre- 
dicament, and  perceived  the  danger.  The  portion  of 
floor,  on  which  he  found  footing,  was  now,  also,  bend- 
ing rapidly  downward,  making  an  incline  so  steep  that 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  remain  much  longer 
in  an  upright  position. 

A  giddiness  came  over  him,  as  the  parting  platforms 
separated,  with  their  edges  slowly,  but  surely,  moving 
apart.  He  hastily  estimated  the  width  of  the  black 
chasm,  now  between  himself  and  the  other  portion  of 
the  floor.  With  desperate  energy,  he  gathered  himself 
for  the  effort,  and  sprang  across  the  yawning  space. 
The  distance  was  too  great,  and  he  found  himself  vainly 
endeavoring  to  obtain  a  grasping  place  on  the  smooth 
surface. 

A  bitter  howl  of  rage  emanated  from  his  coarse 
mouth,  followed  by  horrible  imprecations  and  curses 
against  his  tormentors,  who  sat  deliberately  watching 
his  struggles. 

Like  a  flash  of  light,  across  the  brain  of  the  doomed 
man,  came  the  recollection  of  the  dungeons  and  reser- 
voirs beneath  the  palace.  For  all  their  intimacy,  Herod 
had  never  revealed  to  Solan  Hai  this  trap  floor.  A 
dreamy,  wondering  thought  drifted  through  his  mind 
as  to  whether  dungeons  and  years  of  confinement 
awaited  him,  or  if  his  death  struggle  would  be  a  bat- 
tle with  the  chilly  waters  of  the  great  slimy  cisterns. 
In  spite  of  every  effort,  the  clutching  grasp  failed,  and, 


Chamber  of  Death.  269 

with  a  gasping,  despairing  cry,  the  unfortunate  victim, 
of  his  own  villainy,  fell  into  the  dark  abyss  below. 

The  floor,  directly  before  the  king,  lightened  of  its 
load,  straightened  into  place  almost  at  once,  the  lowered 
portion  rising  slowly  to  its  proper  level.  The  noise  of 
the  upper  movement,  effectually  shut  out  any  sound 
that  might  have  come  from  below. 

Alta  sat  rigidly  in  her  place,  only  the  tense  line  of 
her  lips  indicating  the  horror  that  must  have  filled 
her  being.  She  listened  to  the  grating  and  grinding  of 
the  machinery  that  lifted  the  heavy  timbers,  until  the 
edges  of  the  floor  struck  together,  and  the  last  bolt 
shot  into  its  socket,  then  she  drooped  forward  and  fell 
helplessly  in  a  deathlike  swoon. 

Again  did  the  attendants  procure  the  strong  drink. 
The  arms  of  the  king  were  folded  about  the  unconscious 
woman  in  fondness  and  alarm.  His  own  hand  held 
the  draught  to  her  lips. 

She  recovered  quickly,  and  lifted  her  hand  weakly 
to  her  brow. 

"Let  us  leave  this  place,"  she  murmured.  "Can  he 
trouble  us  any  more?" 

"Never  any  more,"  answered  Herod  tenderly.  And 
he  gently  conducted  Alta  from  the  chamber  of  death. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  STRANGE  INVITATION. 

Beautiful,  queenly  Alta  Gatzor  continued  her  career 
of  splendid  extravagance.  After  the  disappearance  of 
the  seer  of  Jerusalem,  and  her  acquaintance  with  the 
king,  it  surpassed  anything  she  had  ever  attempted 
before. 

Two  eunuchs  constantly  attended  her;  anticipating 
every  wish,  executing  her  orders  and  obeying  her  every 
whim.  Besides  these,  she  maintained  a  retinue  of 
other  servants,  and  her  pretentious  mansion  was  the 
one  most  of  interest  in  the  new  town. 

Her  gorgeously  furnished  apartments,  with  every 
luxurious  appointment  in  perfect  taste,  were  incom- 
parably elegant,  and  evidenced,  among  her  many  won- 
derful elements  of  character,  the  ability  to  group  count- 
less costly  furnishings  with  perfect  harmony  of  color, 
and  an  appearance  of  exquisite  simplicity. 

The  advent  of  this  strange  woman  had  astonished 
all  Jerusalem.  Her  lavish  expenditures  distanced  all 
competitors;  her  beauty  and  the  magetism  of  her 
presence,  eclipsing  even  that  of  the  famed  queen  of 
Egypt;  or  the  equally  remarkable  sovereign  of  Sheba. 

How,  and  from  where,  Alta  Gatzor  had  come,  were 
•questions  answered  not  at  all.  The  members  of  her 
household  were  entirely  non-communicative ;  they  knew 
nothing;  or  they  resolutely  declined  to  refer  to  the 
matter. 

270 


A  Strange  Invitation.  271 

She  ruled  her  dependents  with  a  despotic  sway.  They 
obeyed  without  protest.  She  was  austere  and  exacting, 
yet  all,  who  were  admitted  to  her  exclusive  circle, 
became  fascinated  with  her  dark  beauty.  The  adora- 
tion, so  freely  offered  her,  she  did  not  value,  and,  save 
for  the  affectionate  respect,  with  which  she  at  all  times 
honored  her  father  and  mother,  she  seemed  devoid  of 
the  most  lovable,  womanly  traits.  Her  conduct  toward 
all  others  was  in  marked  contradistinction  to  the  con- 
sideration always  evinced  by  Alta,  when  the  welfare  or 
happiness  of  her  parents  was  involved. 

The  mystery  of  her  household  and  movements  con- 
tinued to  defy  penetration,  except  in  that  she,  herself, 
chose  occasionally  to  lift  the  veil.  She  was  a  revela- 
tion to  the  people  of  Jerusalem;  by  her  magic  touch 
every  avenue  was  opened  and  closed  at  will. 

Even  the  king,  when  he  could  forego  his  baths 
beyond  the  Jordan,  sought  her  side  and  spent  much  time 
in  her  society.  Many  perceived  the  likeness  of  Alta  to 
the  unfortunate,  but  beloved,  Mariamne  and,  to  this 
remarkable  resemblance,  the  knowing  ones  attributed 
the  partiality  and  favor  bestowed  on  her  by  the  "king  of 
the  Jews." 

The  distinction,  conveyed  through  the  flattering  con- 
descension of  the  king,  was  enough  to  give  her  place 
among  the  highest  and  greatest,  if  not  the  best,  of  the 
city. 

The  scandal  mongers  and  sensation  venders  gossiped 
and  whispered  among  themselves,  and  to  all  others  who 
could  be  induced  to  listen  to  their  cunningly  devised 
innuendoes,  that  Herod  was  enslaved  by  the  sorcery, 
and  completely  enthralled  by  the  witchery  of  Alta  Gat- 
zor.  In  their  estimation,  this  was  true,  not  only  of  the 
king,  but  of  all  others  who  came  within  her  influence. 


272  Joachim's  Daughter. 

She  was  a  royal  entertainer,  and  the  guests,  who  par- 
took of  her  generous  hospitality,  went  away  loud  in  her 
praise.  For  all  the  busy  voice  of  prejudice  and  adverse 
criticism,  the  king's  new  favorite  was  soon  advanced 
to  a  position  that  made  her  the  envy  of  all  her  sex,  and 
the  sensation  of  the  hour.  Surprise  at  the  sudden  ascen- 
sion to  power,  mingled  with  disapproval  of  her  daring 
disregard  of  conventionalities,  kept  busy  tongues 
employed  with  malicious  discussions. 

Panthera  had  heard  much  of  the  brilliant  Alta;  on 
several  occasions,  he  met  her  at  the  festive  entertain- 
ments where  the  king's  guard  was  summoned  to  add 
zest  to  the  animated  scenes.  Always,  she  bestowed 
upon  the  soldier,  not  only  recognition,  but  also,  her 
most  winning  smiles.  On  his  part  these  friendly  over- 
tures were  received  with  a  grave  courtesy  that  forbade 
tamiliarity.  He  was  compelled,  however,  to  acknow- 
ledge himself  under  somewhat  of  an  obligation  to  the 
imperious  woman,  who  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  her 
preference  for  the  distinguished  looking  Roman. 

He  remembered  her  bitter  arraignment  of  the 
wizard,  in  the  cave  at  Hebron ;  the  passionate  voice  that 
had  denounced  her  father's  destroyer,  and  he  had 
watched  with  wonder  the  apparent  standing  of  the  out- 
law at  the  home  of  the  Gatzors. 

He  knew  that  Solan  Hai  was  his  enemy,  and  he 
could  not  guess  why  the  hostilities  should  cease.  The 
wizard  had  become  an  unknown  factor  in  the  life  of 
Panthera,  since  he  was  no  more  seen  in  the  city.  The 
soldier  had  missed  him,  it  is  true,  but  he  did  not  care 
to  inquire  what  had  become  of  the  seer.  It  was  rumored, 
that  this  unique  personage  had  been  seen  on  the  way 
from  Jerusalem  to  Rome;  that  he  was  bound  on  an 
important  mission  concerning  the  king.  Panthera  did 


A  Strange  Invitation.  273 

not  concern  himself  as  to  the  truth  or  falsity  of  this 
report,  having  no  disposition  to  pry  into  the  affairs  of 
so  dangerous  a  foe. 

With  his  mind  constantly  occupied  with  love  for 
the  amiable,  affectionate  Mary,  he  had  small  time  for 
thought  of  Solan  Hai,  much  less  of  Alta  Gatzor. 

Over  at  the  little  city  of  Nazareth,  the  wife  of  his 
choice  waited  for  him,  yet,  in  vain  was  his  every  effort 
to  obtain  a  discharge  from  the  service  of  Herod.  Dis- 
tinction and  honor  had  been  thrust  Upon  him.  He  had 
been  advanced  in  place  and  power,  and  the  king  had 
been  pleased  to  notice  and  mention  him  with  approval. 
In  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  which,  of  late,  had  been 
enlarged  and  had  increased  in  responsibility,  he  had 
been  commended. 

Salome  and  Alexes  had  assured  him  of  their  com- 
bined influence  with  the  king  in  obtaining  the  desired 
release,  but  disappointment  was  the  only  result  of  their 
efforts,  until  Panthera  turned  from  their  promises  with 
a  heavy  heart,  his  oft  deferred  hopes  creating  a  spirit 
of  gloom  and  impending  disaster. 

Thus  it  was  with  Panthera,  until,  one  day,  he  ling- 
ered in  the  palace  gardens,  as  the  sun  disappeared  and 
the  shades  of  evening  blended  into  the  gloom  and  dark- 
ness of  night. 

Messages  had  come  to  him,  through  the  constantly 
faithful  Joseph.  Between  the  lines  and  words,  of 
loving  tenor,  he  detected  the  presence  of  downright 
anguish  at  the  procrastination.  As  time  lengthened, 
this  state  of  distress  was  aggravated,  at  last,  it  was  too 
much  to  bear,  and  the  suspense  bordered  on  distraction. 

Mary,  soul  of  his  soul,  would  he  ever  return  to  her 
waiting  arms  ?  "Living  or  dead  I  will  return  to  thee," 
he  had  promised.  How  often  the  words  rang  out  to  his 


274  Joachim's  Daughter. 

weary  brain.  Heartsick  and  homesick,  tonight  he 
stretched  his  arms  above  his  head  in  longing  loneliness 
for  the  white  cottage  with  its  vines  and  shrubs ;  its  dove 
cots  and  garden;  its  dainty  mistress  danced  before  his 
mental  vision;  he  was  lost  in  contemplation  of  the 
reunion  at  Nazareth,  and  his  soul  thirsted  for  its  frui- 
tion. 

A  pitch  torch  shed  a  flickering  glare  of  light  over  the 
scene  before  the  soldier.  Long  and  short  shadows 
wavered  in  fantastic  shapes  over  the  flowers  and 
grasses  of  Herod's  lawn.  Panthera  abstractedly  gazed 
through  the  light,  into  the  murky  darkness  beyond. 

Out  of  the  misty  shadows  glided  the  spectre  like  form 
of  a  man,  disguised  in  dark  robes,  and  with  covered 
features.  He  moved  silently,  and  advanced  straight 
toward  where  the  soldier  was  seated.  The  new  actor 
on  the  scene  attracted  the  attention  of  Panthera  and 
aroused  him  from  the  absorbing  train  of  thought  into 
which  he  had  fallen.  As  he  contemplated  the  advanc- 
ing figure  he  could  not  repress  a  foreboding,  that  who- 
ever it  might  be,  he  would  be  the  bearer  of  something 
of  interest  and  concern.  The  soldier  felt  his  heart 
throb  with  anticipation;  an  indescribable  impression, 
that  he  did  not  attempt  to  analyze,  took  possession  of 
his  mind — an  assurance — that,  on  some  former  occa- 
sion, he  had  beheld  the  somberly  clad  creature. 

As  the  figure  came  into  the  full  rays  of  the  light, 
Panthera  felt  a  constraining  sense  of  certainty  that  it 
was  coming  directly  to  where  he  was  seated.  Phantom 
thoughts  of  this  character  rushed  through  his  mind. 

The  advancing  form  was  lost  to  sight  close  under 
the  torch,  then,  emerging  from  the  shadow,  quickened 
its  pace,  and  stood  before  the  soldier. 


A  Strange  Invitation. 

"Caius  Panthera,"  spoke  the  man,  confronting  him. 
" Wilt  thou  follow  me?" 

"Who  art  thou?"  was  the  prompt  question. 

"The  servant  of  Alta,  whose  sirname  is  Gatzor,"  was 
the  response. 

"Where  would'st  thou  lead?" 

"To  the  mansion  of  my  mistress." 

"Why  should  I  follow  thee?" 

"My  mistress  requests  it.  'Twas  she  who  sent  me 
hither." 

"Why  doth  she  request  my  presence?" 

"It  is  her  will." 

"For  what  purpose?" 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently,  but 
he  answered  civilly  enough : 

"Sir,  I  know  not.    Only  she  will  tell  thee." 

"Should  I  refuse  to  attend  thy  bidding — what 
then?" 

"Most  certainly  thou  would'st  offend,  past  pardon. 
My  mistress  would  not  soon  forget  such  an  affront." 

"Thy  mistress  hath  no  right  to  demand  my  pre- 
sence." 

"Thou  may'st  speak  truly,  but  her  power  should  not 
be  despised,  nor  her  wishes  denied.  Wilt  thou  follow 
me?" 

Panthera  thought  of  the  day  when  he  had  been  the 
prisoner  of  Alta  Gatzor;  of  her  voluntary  assistance 
in  securing  his  escape,  unmolested,  from  Solan  Hai. 
Of  her  own  accord,  she  had  guided  him  to  where  Mary 
sojourned.  Now  Alta  had  influence  with  Herod — could 
it  be,  that  she  knew  of  his  fruitless  efforts  to  secure  a 
discharge  from  the  service?  Was  it  not  possible  that 
again  she  had  determined  to  intervene  in  his  behalf? 
For  the  sake  of  the  lovely  Mary,  herself,  whom  all 


276  Joachim's  Daughter. 

must  love,  the  powerful  favorite  of  fortune  might  have 
generously  decided  to  aid  the  soldier.  It  was  the 
explanation  that  flashed  into  the  mind  of  Panthera, 
born  of  his  own  desperate  longing.  It  was  plausible — 
he  dared  not  fail  to  avail  himself  of  every  hopeful 
opportunity. 

He  recollected  her  words,  when  he  had  acknow- 
ledged his  love  for  Joachim's  daughter,  at  the  mountain 
entrance  of  the  cave,  and  through  the  length  of  dreary 
weeks,  he  seemed  to  hear  again  the  sound  of  her  clear 
voice : 

"Thou  may'st  trust  me!"  and  "Alta  will  be  thy 
friend." 

He  hesitated  no  longer. 

"Lead  on !"  he  said. 

The  stranger  glided  away  among  the  shadows  and 
Panthera,  gathering  his  cloak  about  him  with  a  swift 
motion,  sprang  to  his  feet  and  followed  after. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  SORCERESS. 

The  gliding,  muffled  form  kept  a  short  distance  in 
advance  of  the  soldier.  Without  conversation,  the  two 
moved  through  the  narrow  streets  of  Jerusalem,  down 
the  incline,  by  way  of  the  Cheesemonger's  valley, 
toward  mount  Bezetha.  It  was  later  in  the  night  than 
the  soldier  imagined.  While  indulging  in  reverie,  in 
the  garden  of  the  king,  time  had  passed  without  notice. 
The  deserted  streets  were  hushed  into  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  footfalls  of  Panthera  and  his  guide,  as 
they  passed  swiftly  along  the  space  allotted  for  travel — 
now  beneath  the  stone  archways,  and  again  in  more 
open  spaces,  where  the  gliknmer  of  stars  lent  a  faint 
light. 

They  halted  before  an  imposing  structure — the  end 
of  their  journey — from  within  no  ray  of  illumination 
found  its  way ;  no  appearance  of  life  was  visible ;  it  was 
the  home  of  Alta  Gatzor. 

The  guide  laid  his  hand  on  the  rail  of  an  iron  gate, 
touched  a  hidden  spring,  and  the  way  into  the  court 
surrounding  the  mansion  was  open. 

Panthera  paused  inquiringly  as  the  guide  waited  out- 
side the  gate. 

"Step  in!"  invited  the  messenger. 

Panthera  did  so.  The  guide  followed.  A  snap  of  the 
spring  announced  the  closing  of  the  gate,  and  the  form 
passed  forward  across  the  court. 

277 


278  Joachim's  Daughter. 

The  forbidding  walls  of  the  gloomy  looking  build- 
ing loomed  tall  and  silent,  as  if  waiting  for  some  one 
to  speak  animation  into  their  gray,  cold  depths.  The 
guide,  familiar  with  the  surroundings,  ascended  a  flight 
of  massive  stone  steps,  to  a  landing  between  two  of 
the  marble  pillars  of  the  open  colonnade.  In  the  dusky 
shade,  this  person  found  and  opened  a  door,  giving 
admission  to  the  interior  of  the  house. 

"Enter!"  was  all  he  said  to  Panthera,  who  had 
accompanied  him,  without  question. 

The  huge  door  swung  shut,  enveloping  them  in 
intense  darkness  and  closing  away  the  outer  world. 

The  soldier  waited  for  the  voice  of  his  conductor,  it 
came  not.  In  the  darkness  and  stillness  he  became 
aware  that  he  was  alone.  Suspicion  of  evil,  for  the 
first  time,  entered  his  mind.  He  feared  the  existence 
of  some  trap.  In  the  impenetrable  gloom  he  imagined 
a  new  presence  near,  but  he  remained  motionless.  The 
guide  had  left  him  when  the  door  had  closed,  now,  as 
the  soldier  grew  impatient,  a  light  appeared,  and  Pan- 
thera saw  the  muffled  figure  advancing  quickly  toward 
him. 

"Come!"  commanded  the  person,  leading  the  way 
across  a  large  semi-circular  anteroom. 

All  the  way,  through  the  streets  and  while  waiting 
in  the  obscurity  of  the  lobby,  the  mind  of  the  soldier 
had  been  struggling  with  the  problem,  where  had  he 
seen  this  figure  before  ?  He  was  following  lightly  up  a 
carved  stairway  to  the  upper  floor,  when,  suddenly, 
clear  and  as  though  it  had  been  but  yesterday,  that 
it  happened,  there  came  to  his  memory  the  episode,  at 
the  gate  of  the  city,  when  he  had  last  left  Jerusalem  on 
his  way  to  Nazareth.  The  cowled  figure — its  warn- 


The  Sorceress.  279 

ing — unheeded  at  the  time  and  during  the  happy  days 
that  followed. 

He  sprang  forward  with  an  exclamation,  they 
reached  the  landing  simultaneously,  and,  before  Pan- 
thera  could  speak  again,  a  sliding  door  opened,  flood- 
ing the  place  where  they  stood  with  light.  They  entered 
a  spacious  apartment.  It  was  the  banquet  hall,  where 
the  king  had  been  entertained  by  the  wizard  with  the 
spirit  manifestations,  said  to  have  been  from  another 
world. 

The  eyes  of  the  soldier  swept  rapidly  over  the  scene 
before  him.  Every  detail  of  magnificence  was  noted. 
The  yielding  velvet  of  the  rugs  rendered  his  step  noise- 
less ;  the  display  of  wealth  and  glittering  grandeur  was 
enhanced  by  myriads  of  lamps  with  colored  shades. 

Near  the  center  of  the  room  the  guide  stopped 
abruptly : 

"Caius  Panthera,  of  the  Germans!"  he  announced 
and  immediately  retraced  his  steps,  leaving  the  soldier 
a  solitary  figure,  amidst  the  splendor. 

At  the  side  of  the  room  the  purple  curtains  of  an 
alcove  trembled,  and  were  drawn  aside. 

"Thou  art  welcome,  most  excellent  Panthera!"  The 
voice  was  the  well  remembered  one  of  Alta  Gatzor. 

Panthera  turned  sharply.  Within  the  curtained 
alcove,  lovely — flushed  with  pleasure — radiant,  stood 
the  speaker.  One  jeweled  hand  held  back  the  folds  of 
the  curtain,  the  other  was  outstretched  in  glad  greet- 
ing to  the  soldier. 

"Thou  wilt  accept  a  seat,  my  friend,"  she  continued, 
pointing  to  a  divan  before  her. 

Panthera  bowed,  with  courtly  grace,  above  the  per- 
fect hand  and  accepted  the  proffered  seat. 

Alta  had  slipped  into  her  favorite  reclining  posture 


280  Joachim's  Daughter. 

on  the  purple  draped  couch.  Her  garment  was  the 
wonderful,  transparent  robe  of  gauze  that  she  had  worn 
when  personating  queen  Mariamne.  Her  perfect 
throat  and  arms  were  bare,  and  the  warm  glow  of 
health  shone  through  the  clear  skin.  From  one  slender 
foot  the  lace  trimmed  hem  of  the  robe  fell  away,  and 
the  nervous  tapping  of  the  silken  slipper  alone  betrayed 
of  what  moment  was  this  interview  to  Alta  Gatzor. 

"Thou  hast  been  most  considerate  to  come  at  my 
invitation,"  she  responded,  watching  him  closely. 

The  charm  of  her  presence,  the  tone  of  her  voice, 
could  not  fail  to  place  the  man  at  his  ease ;  but  the  frank 
admiration  that  spoke  in  his  open  glance  was  not  the 
sentiment  she  had  wished  to  arouse. 

"It  affords  me  much  pleasure  to  place  my  services  at 
thy  disposal,"  he  said  quietly.  "Command  me." 

"Know'st  thou  not  why  I  have  sent  for  thee?" 

The  crimson  color  mounted  to  her  cheek.  She  sat  up 
and  looked  directly  into  the  soldier's  upturned  face.  An 
alluring,  wanton  smile  heightened  and  strengthened  her 
beauty,  and  her  dark  eyes  widened  passionately. 

Had  Panthera  been  gifted  with  the  intuition  of 
womankind,  he  would  have  made  a  discovery  that  would 
have  placed  him  on  his  guard.  He  would  have  seen 
that  his  hostess  was  seated  in  a  position  to  avail  her- 
self of  every  advantage  of  light  and  shade  in  the  dis- 
play of  her  magnificent  proportions. 

He  gazed,  into  her  enchanting  face  and  upon  her 
voluptuous  form,  with  all  the  ardor  of  unalloyed  pleas- 
ure in  beholding  such  ravishing  beauty.  She  did  not 
seem  to  take  from  her  surroundings,  rather,  in  his 
estimation,  did  she  shed  brilliancy  upon  them. 

The  costly  robe,  artistically  arranged  and  skillfully 
designed  to  make  the  most  of  her  figure,  left  every  line 


The  Sorceress.  281 

of  her  person  full  and  distinct  in  marvelous,  rounded 
outline.  Beneath  the  lace-like,  silken  folds  the  move- 
ments of  her  graceful  limbs  and  body  were  exposed. 
To  the  vision  of  the  soldier,  there  was  no  mar  or  defect 
in  the  pose  and  picture  befor  him,  and  his  senses  could 
not  but  do  homage  to  the  captivating  woman. 

Vases  of  fragrant  flowers  stood  everywhere;  their 
odors  filled  the  atmosphere,  and  added  a  dreamy  feel- 
ing of  contentment  and  abandonment  to  the  influence 
of  Alta's  absorbing  fascinations. 

Of  all  the  men,  who  had  sued  for  her  favor,  none 
had  ever  awakened,  in  the  proud  heart  of  Gatzor's 
daughter  one  throb  of  response ;  her  life  was  bound  up 
in  the  hope  of  one  day  winning  the  love  of  Panthera. 
She  had  determined  on  his  subjugation.  The  more 
distant  seemed  the  accomplishment  of  her  purpose,  the 
more  intense  grew  her  longing,  until  her  very  being 
was  devoured  with  ungoverned  passion.  The  price  she 
might  be  called  upon,  and  which  she  was  willing  to  pay, 
was  past  computation — all,  everything,  was  at  his  feet, 
within  his  grasp,  under  his  control.  He  had  only  to 
reach  forth  and  partake  of  the  fruit  forbidden.  What 
if  dishonor,  shame — even  death — followed?  What  was 
death  to  Alta  Gatzor  ? 

Would  he  not  divine — behold  her  intent  and  pur- 
pose? No!  Unaccountable  perversity,  he  appeared 
indifferent  to  lascivious  glance  and  wily  flattery  alike. 

Panthera  was  trusting  to  his  ingenuity  to  interest 
this  woman,  whom  he  knew  to  be  a  power  at  the  court 
of  Herod,  in  his  plans  for  emancipation  from  the  duties 
that  prevented  his  return  to  the  confiding,  gentle  Mary, 
who  waited,  longing,  hoping  for  the  soul  comfort  his 
presence  would  bring  into  her  life.  He  labored  under  a 
serious  misapprehension  of  the  true  situation. 


2$2  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"I  have  not  the  remotest  knowledge  of  why  thou 
did'st  send  for  thy  servant,"  he  said  in  reply  to  her 
question,  "except — "  he  paused  and  looked  into  her 
face. 

"Except,"  she  interrupted,  taking  up  the  word,  "that 
I  should  be  interested  in  thy  welfare  and  advance- 
ment." 

"Daughter  of  Gatzor,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  came  here 
with  some  such  thought — 'tis  true.  Thou  art,  perhaps, 
aware  that,  for  some  time  thy  servant  hath  been 
endeavoring  to  obtain  an  honorable  discharge  from 
the  service  of  Herod?" 

"I  have  been  so  informed,"  she  answered  coldly. 
"I  knew,  in  fact,  of  thy  first  effort  in  that  direction." 

"And  thou  wilt  assist?"  he  cried,  eagerly  springing 
to  his  feet. 

"I  will  hinder,"  answered  Alta,  with  flashing  eyes. 
"Thou  can'st  not  leave  Jerusalem  because  I  have  willed 
otherwise.  Pray  resume  thy  seat." 

The  light  died  out  of  the  soldier's  face.  He  sank 
reluctantly  into  his  former  position,  looking  at  her  for 
explanation. 

"Thou  art  astonished  at  my  statement?"  she  con- 
tinued. 

"I  am,  indeed,"  answered  Panthera  sternly.  "Why 
should'st  thou  oppose  my  dearest  wish  and  hope?" 

"Give  me  thy  serious  attention."  She  hesitated,  in 
perplexity,  as  to  where  she  would  best  begin.  "From 
the  time  thou  did'st  first  cross  the  threshold  of  my 
father's  home,  I  have  never  known  an  hour  of  peace. 
Thy  face,  thy  form,  hath  haunted  me  by  day  and  by 
night — hath  filled  my  visions.  I  fought  this  infatua- 
tion ,this  insanity,  for  I  divined  thy  love  for  the  maid 
of  Nazareth,  and  had  confirmation  from  thine  own 


The  Sorceress.  285 

lips.  I  hid  myself  from  thee,  denied  myself  the  pleas- 
ure of  thy  company;  prayed  and  agonized  to  be  deliv- 
ered from  the  overwhelming  love  that  mastered  me. 
All  in  vain.  I  could  not  break  the  silver  chain  binding 
my  soul  to  the  one  purpose — the  possession  of  thy 
regard  and  love." 

"Thou  know'st  not  of  what  thou  art  speaking!'* 
exclaimed  Panthera  in  utter  consternation. 

All  the  art  of  the  heart  bent  on  conquest  was  to  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  this  man  during  the  interview. 
Alta  did  not  dream  of  failure  in  her  undertaking.  All 
men  would  yield;  none  were  impervious  to  the  bland- 
ishments of  a  woman,  a  capable  woman,  who,  urged 
on  by  maddened  desire,  would  not  relinquish  an  oppor- 
tunity to  crush  the  loyalty  of  her  victim.  Panthera  was 
only  a  man,  she  reasoned. 

Although  young  in  years,  she  was  too  experienced 
a  judge  of  human  nature,  as  well  as  of  the  man  in  her 
toils,  to  attempt  weakening  his  confidence  in  the  idol 
of  his  heart.  She  was  not  wholly  lost  to  the  sting  of 
inward,  conscious  shame,  as  her  active  mind  dwelt 
momentarily  upon  the  course  she  was  pursuing.  Not- 
withstanding these  recurring  qualms  she  was  not  the 
woman  to  turn  from  a  set  purpose.  Passion  was  master 
of  discretion.  As  a  result  she  desperately  persisted  in 
her  assault  upon  the  integrity  and  virtue  of  her  victim. 

"Thou  art  mistaken,"  she  answered  him,  calmly  reso- 
lute. "I  know  everything.  Thine  every  movement  hath 
been  under  my  surveillance.  The  restoration  of  thy 
place  in  the  German  company  and  the  arresting  of  the 
king's  displeasure,  was  my  work,  through  the  wizard, 
Solan  Hai.  Thine  advancement,  to  place  and  power, 
is  within  my  hands.  Solan  Hai  was  thine  enemy; 
would  have  destroyed  thee,  he  is  removed,  forever, 


284  Joachim's  Daughter. 

from  thy  way.  There  is  nothing  that  can  separate  us 
from  happiness.  I  have  both  wealth  and  power — it 
shall  be  freely  bestowed  upon  thee — all  shall  be  thine." 

"I  implore  thee,  speak  no  more  of  this.  There  are 
insurmountable  obstacles  to  all  thou  dost  propose, ' 
interposed  Panthera. 

"Thou  dost,  perhaps,  refer  to  thy  marriage  with  the 
maid  of  Nazareth?"  said  Alta. 

Panthera  started,  surprised. 

"How  did'st  thou  know  of  that?"  he  asked. 

"I  tell  thee,  I  know  everything  of  thy  movements," 
reiterated  Alta.  "From  the  time  of  thy  betrothal  thou 
hast  been  under  the  constant,  watchful  observation  of 
my  servant.  Thy  marriage,  at  Nazareth,  was  well 
nigh  more  than  my  soul  could  bear.  At  that  time  I  had 
less  power  with  the  king  else  would'st  thou  not  have 
accomplished  thy  desire." 

Panthera  dashed  his  hand  across  his  face.  Tears  of 
fond  love,  of  hopeless  yearning,  for  Mary  of  Nazareth, 
stood  thickly  under  his  heavy  eyelids.  He  brushed 
them  away.  The  unexpected  mention  of  the  relation 
he  bore  the  maid  was  more  than  his  overwrought  heart 
could  endure. 

"Then  thou  wilt  be  gracious,"  he  said.  "Pity  for 
a  sister,  one  whom  thou,  thyself,  know'st  is  the  best, 
the  noblest,  the  truest  of  earth,  shall  find  a  place  in  thy 
heart.  Even  now,  the  dawn  of  motherhood  brings 
her  fresh  longing  for  the  husband  whom  she  blesses. 
See — on  my  knees  I  plead  with  thee.  Thou  hast  power, 
thou  can'st  restore  me  to  my  wife.  Without  her,  my 
arms  are  henceforth  empty.  Thou  can'st  do  this  thing. 
Place  thy  servant  under  a  never  ending  obligation  to 
thy  goodness  and  generousity.  A  life  of  service  shall 
bind  me  to  thy  fortunes.  We  both  shall  pray  for  thy 


The  Sorceress.  285 

prosperity;  shall  heap  blessings  upon  thy  head;  our 
child  shall  be  taught  to  enshrine  thee  as  a  benefactress. 
Respect  and  honor  shall  take  the  place  of  that  which 
thy  unworthy  servant  hath  kindled  in  thy  bosom. 
When  fortune's  fickle  hand  shall  be  withdrawn  from 
thee,  I  will  render  thee  the  strong  comfort  and  protec- 
tion of  a  brother.  When  the  day  of  adversity  and  sor- 
row comes  upon  thee,  I  shall  bear  its  burden.  Upon  me 
it  shall  fall  and  not  on  thee.  Do  not  turn  away !  Give 
me  thine  answer !" 

Alta  turned  from  the  impassioned  face;  put  out  her 
hand,  as  if  to  ward  off  .the  unwelcome  pleading. 

"I  will  never  assist  thee!"  she  said  deliberately. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ANTONIA  AND  OBLIVION. 

This  answer,  delivered  in  a  steely  tone,  carried  con- 
vincing proof,  to  the  mind  of  the  soldier,  that  the 
woman  would  not  turn  from  her  purpose.  He  remem- 
bered that  every  effort  on  his  part  to  bring  the  con- 
versation to  the  matter  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  and 
nearest  to  his  heart,  had  been  skillfully  parried  and 
diverted.  To  sue  for  mercy,  or  hope  for  favor,  would 
be  equally  futile. 

Panthera  rose  to  his  feet,  drew  his  form  to  its  full 
"height  and  waited. 

"Dost  thou  think  me  cruel,  in  that  I  decline  to  lend 
assistance  that  would  crush  my  dearest  hopes?"  Alta 
questioned. 

"Thou  can'st  have  no  hope  in  this  matter,"  replied 
Panthera.  "I  am  the  loyal  husband  of  one  true  woman." 

Alta's  eyes  fastened  on  the  face  of  the  man  before 
"her.  For  the  allegiance  he  had  sworn  to  another,  she 
would  have  given  life  itself.  In  the  beginning  of  the 
interview  she  determined  that  he  should  foreswear  his 
vows;  that  she  alone  would  be  the  possessor  of  his 
love.  Now  she  brought  herself  to  make  a  proposition 
that  would  have  been  beyond  consideration  before. 

"It  is  not  an  unheard  of  thing  for  a  man  to  have  more 
than  one  wife.  It  is  the  rule — is  it  not?" 

For  the  first  time  a  shade  of  contempt  passed  across 
the  set  features  of  the  soldier. 

286 


Antonia  and  Oblivion.  287 

"I  have  been  a  plain,  simple  man,"  he  said,  "and 
I  have  not  cared  to  inquire  into  such  matters." 

"There  is  no  law  in  Rome,  or  among  the  Hebrews, 
denying  thee  the  right  to  take  to  thyself  another  wife," 
cried  Alta  vehemently. 

"I  am  not  versed  in  the  law  pertaining  to  these 
things,"  responded  Panthera.  "Knowledge  of  my  own 
heart  prompts  me  to  say,  there  is  only  one  woman  who 
shall  rule  and  control  it,  and  she  is  already  my  wife." 

The  eyes  of  Alta  Gatzor  quailed  before  the  steadfast 
gaze  of  the  incorruptible  man.  Mortification  and  shame 
took  hold  of  her,  and  her  courage  faltered.  Then  she 
remembered  her  power  and  returned  once  more  to  her 
purpose. 

"Cains  Panthera,  beware!"  she  exclaimed  angrily. 
"Thinkest  thou  I  will  brook  the  spurning  of  niy  friendly 
overtures  ?" 

"If  thou  wert  friendly,  thou  would'st  act  friendly," 
he  said  sadly. 

"Never  one  word  of  consideration,  or  commiser- 
ation, hast  thou  bestowed  upon  me,"  Alta  cried  bitterly. 
"Like  every  other,  of  thy  sex,  thou  art  supremely  sel- 
fish." 

"Unkindness  and  injustice  characterize  thy  charge," 
was  the  cold  reply.  "Far  be  it  from  me  to  injure  thee 
or  cause  thee  pain.  I  have  offered  thee  all  within  my 
power  to  give." 

"I  refused  and  spurned  thine  offer  of  friendship. 
I  do  so  again." 

She  paused,  all  the  tense,  drawn  lines  of  her  face 
melted  into  sweetness,  the  wide,  dark  eyes  filled  with  an 
expression  of  unutterable  love;  in  an  abandon  of 
misery,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  twining  her  bare 
arms  about  his  knees. 


288  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Do  not  turn  me  away !"  she  sobbed.  "Let  me  be  thy 
slave !  Thy  needs  shall  be  anticipated ;  thy  wants  sup- 
plied. I  am  rich.  All  I  own  is  at  thy  disposal.  Thou 
art  all  the  world  to  me.  Do  not  spurn  me.  Do  not 
remain  so  silent.  Speak !  Speak !  Tell  me  that  I  may 
find  a  place  in  thine  heart." 

Panthera  stooped  to  the  weeping  woman,  lifted  her 
to  her  feet.  In  a  paroxysm  of  passion  she  flung  her- 
self on  his  breast.  Clasping  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
she  rained  kisses  upon  his  face,  calling  him  every  dear 
name  as  she  clung  closer  to  him. 

To  the  astonished  soldier  this  demonstration  was  a 
revelation.  He  looked  into  the  upturned  face  of  Alta. 
The  clear  olive  skin  glowed  with  excitement,  and  her 
eyes  glittered  with  the  intensity  of  her  desperation. 

Panthera  forcibly  pushed  her  from  him,  held  her  at 
arm's  length  in  an  iron  grasp. 

"For  the  sake  of  heaven,  what  would'st  thou?"  he 
demanded.  "Art  thou  lost  to  all  shame?  Hast  thou 
forgotten  thy  self  respect — thy  father — thy  mother! 
Let  us  part.  We  must  do  so.  Summon  thy  servant 
to  conduct  me  hence." 

Alta  shook  off  his  restraining  hands.  With  a  mighty 
effort  she  governed  her  shaking  voice. 

"Never !"  she  declared.  "Never !  Thou  shalt  remain 
of  thy  free  will,  or  against  it,  as  thou  shalt  choose." 

"Thou  art  mad,"  he  said.  "Calm  thyself.  Let  this 
be  forgotten;  never  mentioned  in  the  future.  Let  me 
forget  that  I  ever  came  here.  Do  so  thyself.  Again 
I  say — I  swear — I  will  be  to  thee  a  brother — a  pro- 
tector !" 

"Thou  art  a  fool,"  hissed  the  woman,  forgetting  her- 
self. "I  have  weighed  this  matter  carefully." 

She  stepped  backward  to  the  couch,  where  she  had 


Antonia  and  Oblivion.  289 

reclined,  and  sank  upon  it  as  though  exhausted.  With 
a  fixed  stare  she  regarded  the  man.  Anger  and  hatred 
mingled  in  the  baleful  look,  so  swiftly  had  her  feelings 
undergone  transition.  Her  love  had  been  scorned ;  the 
temptation  of  riches  had  been  offered  without  avail. 
Place,  power  and  grandeur  were  no  object  to  this  extra- 
ordinary man ;  from  her  charms  he  had  recoiled  in  aver- 
sion— even  threats  were  lost  upon  him.  It  was  too  late 
to  turn  back,  had  she  so  desired ;  he  should  not  escape ; 
there  could  be  no  compromise  between  them.  Here- 
after they  must  be  enemies,  at  least  it  would  be  so  upon 
her  part.  She  would  not  fail  in  her  endeavors;  he 
should  be  humbled,  made  to  realize  her  might. 

Panthera  turned,  as  if  to  leave  the  apartment.  Her 
voice  arrested  his  movement  at  the  first  step. 

"Thou  would'st  carry  from  my  presence  the  story  of 
my  love;  the  crime  of  a  woman's  heart  against  the 
modesty  of  her  nature.  Perhaps,  among  thy  comrades, 
thou  wilt  make  boast  of  thy  powers ;  to  while  away  an 
idle  hour,  thou  wilt  recount  thy  victory." 

The  venomous  insinuation  stung  the  soldier  to  the 
quick. 

"Not  for  worlds  would  I  breathe  a  word  of  this 
scene,"  he  cried  in  swift  indignation;  "no,  not  even 
to  my  dearer  self,  the  woman  of  my  choice.  I  can 
trust  that  time  will  make  us  understand  each  other  bet- 
ter, that  thou  wilt  forgive  the  soldier,  and  forget  that 
he  ever  crossed  thy  path — or  give  up  thine  unholy  pas- 
sion, and  regard  him  as  thy  friend." 

He  had  meant  to  be  generous,  and  Alta  was  con- 
vinced of  his  sincerity,  but  the  mention  of  Mary 
crushed  whatever  of  pity  'might  have  been  left  in  the 
breast  of  the  woman ;  it  sealed  his  doom. 

Henceforth  Alta  would  be  a  demon,  controlled  by 


290  Joachim's  Daughter. 

embittered  hate,  the  root  of  murder.  Panthera  instinc- 
tively knew  this  as  he  looked  into  her  face,  observed 
the  dark,  leaden  shade  that  suffused  her  features,  and 
gave  to  her  beauty  a  tinge  of  malignant  fury. 

"Listen,"  she  said  in  a  low,  dangerously  steady  tone, 
"to  the  last  word  of  the  woman  whom  thou  hast  dared 
to  thwart — whom  thou  dost  despise.  I  have  power  to 
cast  thee  off,  to  destroy  thine  every  prospect  and,  af 
last,  to  take  thy  life.  An  hour  ago,  I  loved  thee.  Now 
I  hate,  abhor  thee.  The  earth  is  not  large  enough  to 
hold  us  both." 

"•Surely  thou  would'st  not  have  my  blood  upon 
thee!"  exclaimed  Panthera,  horrified.  "Thou  know'st 
not  what  thou  art  saying.  Thou  art  tormented  by 
fear ;  consumed  by  rage.  When  the  gentle  soothing  of 
sleep  shall  have  lulled  thee  to  forgetfulness,  thou  wilt 
arise  with  better,  nobler  thoughts.  Cease  this  war  of 
words.  Let  thy  servant  return  to  his  place  among  men. 
If  he  may  not  count  on  thee  as  his  friend,  at  least  give 
him  the  privilege  of  forgetting  that  he  ever  looked 
upon  thy  face.  I  will  go  hence.  No  doubt,  I  shall  find 
my  way  unassisted." 

He  moved  peremptorily  toward  the  door,  when,  as 
he  was  about  to  lay  his  hand  against  the  panel,  his  arms 
were  grasped  and  he  found  himself  irresistibly  forced 
back  to  the  place  where  he  had  been  standing. 

The  soldier  recognized  the  two  Ethiopian  atten- 
dants. No  sound  had  betrayed  their  entrance,  or 
signified  from  whence  they  came,  or  the  means  used  to 
summon  them  to  the  presence  of  their  mistress.  Not 
a  word  was  uttered,  they  simply  held  Panthera,  in 
relentless  grasp,  before  the  place  where  Alta  reclined,  a 
bitter  smile  of  triumph  on  her  handsome  lips. 

The  wrath  of  the  soldier  was  aroused.    He  could  not 


Antonia  and  Oblivion.  291 

submit  quietly  to  the  outrage.  With  a  superhuman 
effort  he  threw  his  hands  up  and,  dexterously  thrusting 
them  forward,  brought  his  assailants  violently  against 
each  other.  Their  heads  struck  together,  and  they  stag- 
gered from  the  blinding  contact. 

Taking  advantage  of  their  momentary  bewilderment, 
Panthera  reached  for  his  trusty  short  sword,  only  to 
discover  that  it  was  gone ;  had  been  extracted  from  the 
scabbard,  probably  as  he  waited  in  the  dark  entry  before 
ascending  the  stairway.  This  was  a  sore  disappoint- 
ment. Armed  with  this  weapon,  he  would  have  had  no 
fear  of  the  outcome  between  himself  and  the  two  dis- 
comfited brutes.  As  it  was,  he  knew  he  would  be  under 
serious  disadvantage  should  they  attempt  further 
assaults. 

The  attendants  recovered  themselves,  and  looked  first 
at  each  other,  then  glared  at  the  soldier,  who  was 
slowly  moving  toward  the  opposite  wall.  They  glanced 
at  Alta,  the  same  smile  of  unconcern  curved  the  line 
of  her  mouth,  but  she  did  not  speak. 

The  slaves  lost  no  time,  but  rushed  upon  Panthera 
with  the  evident  intention  of  seizing  him  before  he 
could  reach  the  position  of  advantage  he  was  seeking. 
As  the  foremost  reached  the  soldier,  he  received  a  blow, 
followed  by  a  kick,  that  completely  whirled  him  off  his 
feet,  and,  at  the  same  time,  hindered  his  burly  com- 
panion from  advancing  to  a  place  that  would  allow 
him  to  render  assistance.  Before  the  dazed  eunuch 
gathered  himself  for  another  attack,  Panthera  seized  a 
heavy  stone  pedestal.  Striking,  right  and  left,  he  soon 
leveled  the  two  huge  specimens  of  humanity  to  the 
floor.  With  the  unwieldy  weapon,  in  his  hand,  he 
dashed  through  the  door  into  the  hall  followed  by  the 


292  Joachim's  Daughter. 

two  desperate  and  bleeding  retainers.     In  the  dark- 
ness a  fierce  and  protracted  struggle  ensued. 

Alta  did  not  stir;  she  could  not  have  done  so.  She 
listened  to  the  sounds  of  the  unequal  conflict  with  vary- 
ing emotions.  She  admired  the  fearless  courage  of  the 
soldier  and  could  not  suppress  the  sympathy  and  con- 
cern that  welled  within  her,  as  she  longed  to  know  of 
his  welfare,  neither  could  she  forgive  his  refusal  to 
listen  to  her  appeals. 

The  order  had  been  given,  the  eunuchs  would  cer- 
tainly obey.  She  heard  the  hastily  approaching  foot- 
steps of  the  other  retainers ;  knew  that  Costa  would  soon 
come  to  the  assistance  of  the  Ethiopians.  No  cry  for 
mercy  came  from  the  dark  hallway.  He  would  be 
overcome,  and  then — she  staggered  to  her  feet,  swayed 
— fell  back  against  the  couch. 

Presently  she  became  aware  that  lights  had  been 
procured ;  that  her  servants  were  on  hand  to  render  aid 
to  each  other.  She  could  no  longer  endure  the  sus- 
pense. 

Rushing  into  the  hall,  she  was  in  time  to  see  Pan- 
thera  lift  one  of  the  black  men  bodily  and  hurl  him 
headlong  down  the  stairs,  while  Costa,  stealing  up 
behind  the  devoted  soldier,  dealt  him  a  treacherous 
blow  with  a  bludgeon  that  felled  him.  The  marble 
balustrade  saved  him  from  death  on  the  stone  floor 
below,  as  he  rolled  half  way  down  the  stairs  after  the 
luckless  eunuch.  Panthera  was  the  helpless  prisoner  of 
Costa,  and  Alta  Gatzor. 

The  victim  was  securely  bound  forthwith  so  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  offer  further  resistance. 
Alta  watched  these  preparations  coldly.  At  a  sign  from 
her  the  servants,  awe  stricken  and  wondering,  lifted 


Antonia  and  Oblivion.  293 

the  body  of  the  black  slave  and  silently  carried  it  from 
sight. 

Again  Alta  looked  upon  the  face  that  had  been  her 
undoing.  It  was  more  beautiful,  in  the  repose  of  uncon- 
sciousness, than  she  could  have  guessed.  A  wave  of 
pitying  love  surged  over  her.  She  battled  for  mastery 
of  her  emotions,  spoke  a  low  word  to  Costa  and  van- 
ished within  her  apartment. 

Almost  tenderly  did  the  rascally  minion  apply  restor- 
atives to  his  charge.  He  ran  to  the  outer  door  and  set 
it  widely  ajar,  that  the  cool  night  wind  might  fan  the 
temples  of  the  unconscious  soldier.  Slowly  the  life- 
blood  coursed  back  through  the  benumbed  brain  of 
Panthera,  a  wave  of  feverish  color  trembled  in  his 
face.  The  strong  arms,  of  Costa,  lifted  the  prostrate 
man  to  his  feet  and  supported  him. 

The  cowl  had  been  re-adjusted;  the  long  flowing 
garment  re-arranged.  When  Panthera  opened  his  eyes 
he  saw  the  same  figure  that  had  lead  the  way  to  this 
dread  rendezvous. 

"Thou  must  follow  me,"  said  Costa,  from  beneath 
the  cowl. 

"Lead  on,"  answered  Panthera,  "any  place  is  pre- 
ferable to  within  these  walls." 

The  chill  of  the  gray  dawn  refreshed  the  weary  sol- 
dier. He  walked,  for  a  time,  unheeding  the  direction. 
Suddenly  he  knew,  that  close  behind  him,  moved  other 
forms,  silent,  unobtrusive,  but  there — doubtless  to  assist 
his  guide,  should  occasion  require. 

They  were  moving  toward  the  prison,  Antonia.  The 
captive  pressed  his  hand  to  his  throbbing  brow,  a 
delirium  seized  his  senses.  The  outer  door  of  the  awful 
prison  opened.  He  saw  only  the  portal  of  Mary's  home 
at  Nazareth — he  passed  within — the  guide  bent  toward 


294  Joachim's  Daughter. 

him  and  whispered : 

"I  warned  thee  once  to  'beware.' " 

Panthera  started,  realized  his  situation. 

"I  remember  thee,"  he  said.  "It  was  at  the  north 
gate." 

The  man  in  the  cowl  nodded. 

"Farewell !"  he  muttered.  The  dismal  clank  of  bolts 
was  heard,  and  the  ponderous  door  shut  Caius  Panthera 
in — and  the  world  out — forever. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

EGYPT,  INDIA — A  VISION. 

Time  swung  along,  on  the  weary  wing  of  expect- 
ancy, for  Mary  at  Nazareth.  Hope  changed  to  des- 
pondency that  bordered  on  despair,  as  she  waited  for 
the  one  who  never  returned.  Alive  or  dead,  he  came 
not.  Her  heart  ached,  and  her  soul  yearned  in  anxious, 
suffering  suspense,  for  the  comfort  of  the  man  she 
adored,  the  father  of  her  unborn  child. 

His  absence,  at  this  time,  was  a  great  affliction,  the 
calamity  of  her  life,  for  which  there  was  no  consolation. 
Her  faith,  in  his  constancy,  sustained  her  broken  spirit 
and  saved  the  golden  thread,  binding  her  to  life  and 
love,  from  snapping. 

Patient,  loving  Joseph  moved  about  his  daily  duties 
in  a  sort  of  pre-occupied  silence.  When  Mary  was  not 
gazing  at  him,  his  looks  dwelt  upon  her  in  pitying 
commiseration.  The  pallor  of  his  face  was  only  equaled 
by  the  pathetic  whiteness  of  her  own.  The  constrained, 
troubled  cast  of  his  benign  features,  betrayed  his  deep 
concern  in  the  trial  of  his  ward. 

He  knew  not  what  had  become  of  the  soldier,  and 
now  it  had  come  to  pass  that  he  did  not  mention  the 
name  of  Panthera,  unless  it  was  first  referred  to  by 
Mary.  Notwithstanding  the  most  diligent  inquiries, 
and  frequent  trips  to  the  city,  he  had  been  unable  to 
learn  anything  which  might  account  for  the  mysterious 
disappearance  of  Mary's  husband.  The  friends  of 

295 


296  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Panthera  were  also  mystified,  they  could  only  wonder 
and  surmise  the  worst. 

Another  source  of  pain  and  mortification  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  sensitive  Mary.  The  women  of  the 
place,  not  knowing  the  facts,  were  not  slow  in  divin- 
ing evil  and  insinuating  wrong.  This  being  the  rule, 
time  out  of  mind,  they  were,  to  some  extent,  blame- 
less. What  else  could  they  think  ?  They  had  not  been 
called  into  the  confidence  of  Mary  and  Joseph;  no 
explanations  had  been  forthcoming  from  any  source. 
As  a  consequence,  their  curiosity  was  naturally 
aroused,  and  their  suspicions,  fomented  by  gossip  and 
scandal,  placed  upon  the  acute  edge  of  inquiry. 

As  time  precluded  further  concealment  of  the  deli- 
cate condition  of  Mary,  these  dames  looked  their  vir- 
tuous horror,  shook  their  heads,  and  remarked : 

"We  knew  it !    We  told  thee  so !" 

Thus  went  up  a  chorus  of  righteous  indignation,  the 
refrain,  of  which,  penetrated  the  isolation,  and  reached 
the  ear  of  Mary,  whose  burden  was  already  more  than 
she  had  strength  to  bear.  Yet,  did  she  not  complain, 
or  murmur  at  her  lot.  She  could  still  afford  to  suffer 
reproach,  if  need  be,  rather  than  divide  her  secret  with 
any,  without  his  permission  and  sanction. 

Panthera  had  thought  it  wise,  not  dreaming  that  the 
separation  would  be  for  more  than  a  fortnight,  to 
leave  the  matter  of  the  marriage  unknown,  lest  the  king, 
in  his  unreasonable  prejudice,  might  refure  the  release 
from  service,  to  the  husband  of  Joachim's  daughter — 
she  would  wait. 

Again  it  was  spring  in  Judea.  A  year,  or  thereabouts, 
had  passed  since  the  eventful  morning  when  Panthera, 
the  Roman  soldier,  came  into  the  camp  of  Joachim  with 
his  warning  from  the  sister  of  the  king. 


Egypt,  India — A  Vision.  297 

On  the  pastures  of  Galilee  the  shepherds  were  tend- 
ing their  flocks,  and  the  day  closed  in,  with  peace  and 
quietness  reigning  in  all  the  region  round  about 
Nazareth. 

Night  came  to  Mary — a  night  of  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  death.  She  entered  the  gates  of  dissolu- 
tion, and  in  sorrow  and  travail,  brought  forth  a  son. 

The  mid-wife  came  because  she  saw  a  brightness 
about  the  cottage,  and  she  wondered  whereof  it  shone. 
This  woman's  hands  were  light,  her  movements  prompt 
and  efficient,  and  her  presence  soothing.  She  it  was, 
who  fanned  back  her  sister  into  life,  and  comforted  her 
with  the  whispered  story  of  a  man  born  into  the  world. 
Mary  forgot  her  agony  for  joy  and  held  the  precious 
babe  close  to  her  breast,  murmuring  endearing  mes- 
sages to  the  innocent  newcomer  concerning  the  father 
not  there  to  share  with  her,  in  the  unspeakable  delirium 
'of  pleasure. 

Joseph  was  nigh  through  all  the  distress  of  the  night. 
He  heard  the  music  of  the  child's  first  cry,  and  it  fell 
upon  his  ear  as  never  sound  had  done  before.  The 
appeal  of  that  wailing  voice  touched  the  innermost 
depths  of  his  soul.  His  heart  went  out  to  the  defense- 
less creature,  and  he  loved  the  babe  and  made  him  wel- 
come. 

When  the  mother  had  fallen  into  deep  slumber, 
Joseph  set  out  again  toward  Jerusalem.  To  bring  the 
soldier  home,  to  restore  him  to  the  wife  and  com- 
plete her  happiness  was  his  mission.  The  gray  dawn 
saw  his  departure,  and  the  dusk  of  evening  shadowed 
the  white  cottage  when  he  returned. 

Mary  heard  the  sound  of  his  entrance.  She  turned 
her  wan  face,  flushed  and  hopeful,  toward  the  kindly 
man  who  approached  her  bedside. 


298  Joachim's  Daughter. 

Joseph  bent  his  head. 

"I  bring  thee  no  knowledge  of  him,"  he  said  sadly. 
"Among  all  those  who  knew  him,  not  one  could  tell  me 
more  than  we  already  knew." 

Mary  did  not  speak.  She  turned  her  face  away  and, 
under  the  long  lashes  of  her  closed  eyes,  Joseph  saw  the 
tears  stealing.  That  moment  he  made  a  vow  unto  the 
Lord,  that  henceforth  he  would  be  to  the  child,  a 
father,  so  long  as  he  should  live.  Should  the  soldier 
never  return,  he  would  give  the  remainder  of  his  life 
to  the  adoration  of  the  mother  and  the  service  and 
love  of  her  son. 

"The  Lord  Almighty  hear  my  vow,  and  keep  me 
faithful !"  he  exclaimed,  smiting  himself  on  the  breast 
and  looking  heavenward.  A  voice  came  back  in  imme- 
diate answer : 

"'Tis  a  covenant  between  thee  and  me.  Remember 
thy  vow!" 

Joseph  was  sore  afraid,  for  he  heard  the  voice,  but 
saw  no  person.  When  he  came  to  himself  he  was  aston- 
ished, for  there  was  none  other  in  the  house,  except  the 
woman  who  waited  upon  Mary. 

As  the  hours  passed  by,  his  affection  grew  for  the 
helpless  stranger,  who  nestled  so  quietly  in  the  arms  of 
his  mother,  and  he  again  strengthened  himself  for  the 
new  responsibility  that  had  come  to  him. 

On  the  eighth  day  the  child  was  circumcised,  and 
dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  most  high  God. 

Mary  made  a  vow,  that,  if  the  child  should  be  spared 
to  her,  she  would  raise  him  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and 
in  the  knowledge  of  the  law,  from  his  youth  up.  In 
this  obligation  Joseph  voluntarily  joined  her,  in  the 
synagogue,  before  Annas,  the  priest,  who  registered 


Egypt,  India — A  Vision.  299 

and  witnessed  these  vows,  as  made  by  Mary  and 
Joseph. 

It  came  to  pass  that  Mary  was  again  strong.  Daily- 
was  she  seen  in  the  temple  of  God.  In  prayer  and  suppli- 
cations, fastings  and  thanksgiving,  the  greater  part  of 
her  time  was  spent. 

The  child  grew  and  waxed  strong,  a  pride  and  com- 
fort to  his  mother.  Some  of  the  other  mothers  in  Israel 
envied  Mary  the  interesting  child,  who  grew  more  beau- 
tiful as  the  age  of  understanding  dawned  in  his  mind~ 

About  this  time  Mary  had  a  vision,  as  she  slept, 
and,  behold  she  saw  the  father  of  her  child,  and  with 
him  other  persons,  whose  raiment  did  shine  with  a 
brightness  as  of  the  noonday  sun.  And  an  exceeding 
great  light  filled  the  room  wherein  lay  the  babe  and 
his  mother.  Mary  was  not  afraid,  but  welcomed  the 
heavenly  visitors  and  hearkened  unto  their  voices,  giv- 
ing heed  to  their  words. 

Above  the  couch  where  she  rested,  bent  the  beloved 
face  of  Panthera.  Eagerly  she  lifted  the  little  one,  that 
the  father  might  behold  the  perfection  of  his  child,  and, 
a§,  she  did  so,  she  heard  the  music  of  the  husband's 
voice : 

"Mary,  my  life,  be  not  afraid.  Comfort  thyself — 
for  I  have  seen  thy  sorrow  and  know  of  thy  constancy. 
Take  our  child  and  flee  into  Egypt,  for  there  are  those 
who  would  take  his  young  life." 

At  these  words,  spoken  in  the  familiar  tones,  Mary 
became  frightened  because  of  the  warning.  Grasping 
the  babe  in  her  arms,  she  shrieked  out  in  her  excite- 
ment, and  instantly  the  vision  faded. 

Joseph  rushed  to  the  room,  as  did,  also,  others,  hear- 
ing^ the  cry  of  the  mother.  When  they  were  come  into 
the  apartment  where  she  was,  they  found  her  sitting 


300  Joachim's  Daughter. 

upright,  with  the  babe  strained  tightly  to  her  bosom. 

She  requested  all  of  them  to  leave  her,  save  her 
guardian.  When  they  were  all  gone  out,  Mary  told 
Joseph  all  her  vision  and  he  was  sore  perplexed.  He 
looked  at  the  woman  in  doubt — fearing  that  her  trouble 
and  weakness  had  unsettled  her  reason.  But  Mary  per- 
sisted in  the  assertion  that  she  had  seen  the  spirit  of  her 
husband  that  she  had  received  a  message  from  him, 
although  she  had  been  spellbound  and  amazed  so  that 
she  remained  speechless  in  his  presence  and  the  pres- 
ence of  those  messengers,  whom  she  had  seen  in  his 
company. 

Nevertheless,  when  Joseph  had  pondered  the  thing 
Mary  related,  he  counselled  her  not  to  mention  the 
vision  to  any  other  person. 

And  yet,  in  that  very  same  night,  Joseph,  too,  was 
warned  by  an  angel  in  a  dream,  to  take  the  child  and 
his  mother,  and  fly  into  Egypt,  there  to  remain  until 
he  should  be  commanded  to  return  to  Galilee. 

Now  Joseph  was  a  devout  man,  and  was  not  unmind- 
ful of  the  heavenly  message,  but  set  about  the  matter 
of  his  journey  with  all  haste. 

Afterward  he,  with  Mary  and  her  child,  sojourned 
in  the  land  of  Egypt.  Joseph  worked  at  his  trade,  of 
contractor  and  builder,  and  was  well  regarded  and 
respected  by  the  Egyptians,  so  long  as  he  remained  a 
'stranger  within  their  gates.' 

The  little  family  lived  in  the  humble  manner  befitting 
their  straightened  circumstances — 'for  nothing  of 
Mary's  rightful  fortune  had  been  recovered — all  of 
Joachim's  wealth  having  been  absorbed  into  the  coffers 
of  Herod — and  the  young  child  and  his  mother  were 
entirely  dependent  upon  the  care  and  means  of  the  faith- 
ful Joseph. 


Egypt,  India — A  Vision.  301 

When  they  had  been  several  months  in  the  land  of 
Egypt,  they  were  one  day  seated  at  the  door  of  their 
tent,  at  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 

Across  the  space,  before  the  humble  abode,  moved 
the  stately  form  of  a  priest  from  the  temple  of  Isis.  He 
approached  and  bowed  himself  low  before  Mary  and 
her  son,  saying: 

"Blessed  woman.     Peace  be  with  thee." 

Knowing  the  holy  office  of  the  man,  by  his  garb, 
Mary  saluted  the  stranger  with  kindly  greetings,  and 
Joseph  did  constrain  him,  beseeching  him  that  he  would 
partake,  with  them,  of  the  evening  meal.  Being  per- 
suaded, the  priest  tarried  at  the  tent  and  ate  of  the 
meal  cake  and  the  lamb  that  had  been  prepared  by 
Mary. 

When  the  priest  had  been  refreshed,  he  spoke  to 
Joseph  and  said : 

"Behold,  in  thy  servant,  a  man  who  is  a  worshiper  of 
the  true  God,  a  minister  and  teacher,  a  magician  and 
soothsayer,  as  were  his  fathers  before  him,  time  out  of 
mind,  for  many  generations,  since  the  time  when  Abra- 
ham dwelt  in  this  same  land. 

"'Fastings  and  prayers  have  been  meat  and  drink  to 
thy  servant  since  his  earliest  remembrance,  and  now, 
the  whiteness  of  age  is  upon  him  and  the  experience  and 
wisdom  of  years.  Thrice  hath  an  heavenly  vision  come 
unto  thy  servant,  commanding  him  to  find  one  Mary 
and  her  guardian,  Israelites,  sojourning  in  this  country, 
and  bid  them  welcome  to  the  temple  of  Isis,  near  by  the 
great  and  holy  river  of  God. 

"Thy  servant  remonstrated  with  the  angel  of  the 
vision  saying :  'The  land  of  Egypt  is  a  domain  of  vast 
extent,  and  where  shall  thy  servant  go  to  find  such  per- 
sons among  the  many  Israelites  dwelling  within  its 


302  Joachim's  Daughter. 

borders.'  The  answer  was  :  Thy  steps  shall  be  ordered, 
fear  not !'  I  have  never  ceased  from  the  quest.  Answer 
me  truly,  art  thou  the  persons?" 

"Surely  it  must  be  that  we  are  those,  whom  thou  dost 
seek,"  replied  Joseph,  astonished.  "This  is  Mary,  my 
ward,  and  this  child  is  her  son." 

"Shalt  thou  be  inclined  to  visit  the  temple?"  inquired 
the  priest. 

"Surely  we  will."  It  was  Mary  who  answered,  Joseph 
seeming  to  reflect. 

"Then  thou  wilt  follow  me,  for  the  Gods  have  a  mes- 
sage for  thee." 

Forthwith,  the  magician  went  out  of  the  tent,  fol- 
lowed by  Joseph,  and  Mary.  When  they  were  come 
unto  a  temple  nigh  the  river  Nile,  the  priest  entered,  and 
bade  them  follow  fearlessly. 

The  huge  pillars,  supporting  the  massive  structure 
were  everywhere  ornamented  with  beautiful  carvings 
of  symmetrical  perfection. 

Mary  and  Joseph  observed  the  quaint  and  curious 
objects  cut  from  the  solid  rock;  the  perpetual  fires  that 
burned  on  the  altars ;  the  priests  ministering  to  strange 
gods  and  the  attendants  running  to  and  fro  with  tem- 
ple messages.  They  heard  the  tinkle  of  silver  bells  and 
the  monotonous  chant  of  the  singers.  Awe  and  rever- 
ence filled  them,  as  these  secret  rites  were  exposed,  and 
they  followed  the  priest  expectantly,  until  the  door  of  an 
inner  chamber  closed,  shutting  out  all  the  sounds  of  the 
temple,  and  enveloping  them  in  complete  darkness. 

The  priest  guided  them  to  a  seat  and  bade  them  be 
at  rest.  The  child  had  fallen  asleep,  but,  in  the  uncer- 
tainty of  their  surroundings,  Joseph  did  not  relin- 
quish his  hold,  keeping  the  tender  body  of  the  infant 
closely  in  his  arms. 


Egypt,  India — A  Vision.  303 

In  the  black  silence  a  voice  spoke  to  Mary,  in  her  own 
tongue : 

"Mary  of  Nazareth,  daughter  of  Joachim,  fear  not. 
Thy  sorrow  hath  come  up  before  us.  Be  of  good  cheer. 
We  are  here  to  comfort  thee,  and  strengthen  thee  for 
the  work  that  is  given  thee  to  do.  What  thine  ears  shall 
hear  and  thine  eyes  behold,  treasure  up  in  thine  heart 
against  the  time  to  come." 

A  sudden  beam,  as  though  lightning  had  shot  across 
the  space,  illuminated  the  obscurity. 

Mary  and  Joseph  had  time  to  catch  sight  of  a  form, 
in  the  similitude  of  a  man,  whose  hair  was  white  and 
fell  in  silken  waves  upon  his  neck,  whose  body  was 
clothed  in  linen,  and  whose  loins  were  girded  with 
fine  gold.  His  face  did  shine,  like  unto  the  sun,  and 
his  eyes  were  as  lamps  of  fire,  while  his  arms  and  feet 
were,  in  color,  like  unto  polished  brass. 

The  apparition  was  seen,  but  for  an  instant,  when 
the  darkness  again  fell  upon  them  and  became  blacker 
than  before. 

Joseph  still  clasped  the  child,  but  he  dared  not  stand 
in  the  presence  of  the  holy  one,  he  had  seen  in  the  bright 
light.  He  prostrated  himself  on  the  floor.  Yet,  Mary 
was  upheld  by  a  strength,  new  to  her,  that  seemed  to 
permeate  all  her  being. 

Immediately  she  was  conscious  that  the  gloom  was 
gradually  disappearing.  A  halo  of  light  came  softly 
before  her  sight  and  then  a  brilliancy  that  rendered  the 
most  minute  object  visible. 

She  beheld  the  priest  slowly  arising  from  the  floor. 
He  beckoned  her  forward,  and  she  unhesitatingly  fol- 
lowed toward  the  spot  where  the  beautiful  vision  had 
stood.  From  beyond,  echoing  among  the  vaulted 
recesses  came  a  melodious  voice,  clear  and  tender : 


304  Joachim's  Daughter. 

"Mary,  blessed  among  women,  wife  of  Panthera,  the 
beloved,  thou  art  welcome.  Thrice  hast  thou  been 
blessed — in  thy  lineage,  in  thy  marriage,  and  in  the 
fruit  of  thy  womb.  Henceforth,  take  good  courage,  be 
strong — for  in  thy  son,  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
be  crowned  with  glory,  and  honor,  and  peace.  Return 
again  to  thine  own  land,  for  they  that  sought  the  life 
of  the  child  are  dead.  When  thy  son  shall  have  come 
to  the  age  of  twelve  years,  thou  shalt  deliver  him  to  the 
Magi  of  India.  They  will  instruct  him  in  all  the  mys- 
teries, and  in  the  way  of  godliness,  until  he  shall  arrive 
at  the  time  when  he  shall  enter  upon  his  mission  and 
priesthood." 

Mary  gave  heed  to  these  words  with  understanding, 
and  she  looked  with  new  joy  into  the  face  of  her  child 
because  of  what  she  had  heard. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that,  afterwards,  Joseph  and 
Mary  returned  to  Galilee,  where  Joseph  again  worked 
diligently  at  his  trade  and  did  truly  fulfill  his  vow, 
made  unto  the  Lord — devoting  all  the  rest  of  his  life 
to  the  comfort  and  adoration  of  the  child  and  his 
mother;  while  Mary  kept  all  these  revelations  and 
pondered  them  in  her  heart. 

THE  END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

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